#i just flipped through unlocked for the first time in. like a year

[obsesssedblerd]

"Who's your new teacher?"

Synopsis: Toji meets Megumi's new preschool teacher and immediately develops a crush.

Pairings: single dad! toji x f! reader

Wc: 2.3K

Contains: plenty of fluff, crack, a tiny bit of angst, megumi is four, tsumiki is seven, toji is still toji (but like he's soft for his kids and he takes care of them), reader is a preschool teacher, reader and toji are around the same age, toji being soft, mentions of shiu, shiu and toji work together, shiu being an idiot (lol sorry he'll get love in another fic) , everyone is happy bc I said so

a/n: omg, first fic, we made it! barely proofread, sorry for mistakes. also, tysm for 1,000 followers here! the other two fics that were on that poll will be coming soon!

update: pt 2 here

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Toji’s Fushiguro’s muscles ache. The job he took was harder than he anticipated, and it took way longer than it was supposed to. After confirming that the payment from the job is in his account, he calls Shiu Kong so he could check in on the kids. “About damn time,” Shiu scoffs when the line connects. “I was beginning to think I wouldn’t hear from you until sunrise.” 

“Job’s done,” Toji says as he gets into his car, settling into the drivers’ seat with an exhausted sigh. “I hear the TV in the background. Better be cartoons or something age-appropriate.” 

Shiu laughs. “Of course, what else? ‘M not getting cussed out by you. Anyway, you comin’ back with Megumi? Can’t believe you took him on the job with you. Once you’re back, I can get out of here.” 

Toji’s heart nearly stops. He sits up in his seat, gripping the phone so hard that the screen nearly cracks from his strength. “The fuck did you just say?” 

“Huh?” 

“Megumi isn’t with you?!” Toji’s voice booms in the car. On the other line, he hears Shiu gulp. “I… I thought he was with you.” 

“You idiot! I asked you to pick him up from preschool around the same time you pick up Tsumiki from her school because I knew this would take a while!” 

“You did?!” Shiu asks, and then it goes quiet; him more than likely flipping through his messages to double check. “...Shit,” he breathes out. 

Toji inhales sharply, then exhales shakily in an attempt to calm the rage, and even the fear that pools in his gut. “If anything has happened to my fucking son, Kong, I will murder you and make your death look like an accident. Keep an eye on Tsumiki.” 

“Fushiguro, I swear, I-” Toji hangs up before Shiu can explain himself further, then he starts the car. 

He grips the steering wheel hard, and his breathing picks up as his mind spins with every horrific scenario possible. The preschool closes at six thirty. It was close to nine. He didn’t see any missed calls from them. On a normal day, he’d be done before work with plenty of time to pick up his four year-old son, but today’s job was far more difficult and required more time. 

The car speeds down the street leading to his destination. He’s half-expecting to see Megumi sitting outside with his backpack, clinging to his dog plushie and crying. Or worse, he’s not there at all; because this world is full of terrible people, and they won’t hesitate to steal a small, unsupervised boy. His heart aches at the thought, and he shoves it away before he feels the need to throw up. He’ll be okay, he thinks to himself. Everything is going to be fine. 

—

When Toji arrives at the preschool, he rushedly parks lopsidedly in the lot, then exits the car. His eyes scan the steps leading up to the front, and when he doesn’t see Megumi outside, he rushes to the door. 

He sees a security guard in a booth, and before Toji can even ask any questions, the guard gives him a small smile and nod, pressing a button that unlocks the door to the preschool with a click. Toji’s shoulders slump in relief. They were expecting him. That meant Megumi is still here and safe. 

Toji nods back at the guard in thanks, and rushes down the dimly-lit hallway. He sees a light coming from a classroom that still has its door open, and he slows his steps when he hears a child giggling. His child. 

Then it’s followed up by a beautiful, melodic laugh that makes him stop in his tracks. It’s a lovely sound; one that his heart skips to, and one that gently rings in his ears even plenty of seconds after it stops. 

Toji peeks into the classroom to see Megumi comfortably resting in a pillow fort, and you, kneeling beside a lamp and using your hands to make shadow puppets on the wall to entertain him. “Alright,” you say softly as you rearrange your hands and fingers. “What’s this one?” 

You smile as you watch Megumi hum thoughtfully, and Toji is transfixed by you. Who are you? Where did you come from? Since when did Megumi get a new teacher? Why is your smile so bright and so beautiful that the sun would envy? Why is his heart beating wildly in his chest at the sight of you? Fuck, why is he staring? 

“Ooh!” Megumi gasps as he figures out the animal you made with your hands. “Rabbit!” 

“Correct, great job!” You reach forward and give him a high-five. “I think you’ll really like this next one,” you say, and Megumi giggles again as he sits up, completely focused and ready to guess. “Ready?” You ask, and the boy nods. 

Toji crosses his arms, quietly leans against the door of the classroom, and watches, unaware of the soft smile that creeps onto his face. When you put your hands in front of the light, and the shape of the animal displays in front of Megumi, he squeals excitedly and stands up. “Doggy!” He shouts with a wide grin and pulls up his favorite dog plushie that he takes with him everywhere, imitating the sounds a dog would make. You break out into laughter, and Toji nearly stops breathing so he can fully take in the sound of it again.

Beautiful, he thinks. You’re so fucking beautiful. 

Megumi’s eyes flicker towards the door, and he gasps before running as fast as he can towards Toji. “Papa!” 

“Hey, Megs.” Toji kneels down, hugs the small boy against his chest before picking him up in his strong arms, sighing in relief as he runs a hand through his dark hair. He’s okay, and he doesn’t look too upset that he was here for this long. “I’m so sorry I’m late. Are you alright?” 

“Yeah!” Megumi pulls away, then gestures towards you, who watched the tender reunion with a sweet smile. “Ms. [Y/L/N] played so many fun games with me!” 

“Aw, I’m so happy you had fun, Megumi.” You take a step closer so you’re standing in front of Toji, slightly lifting your head upward to meet his eyes due to his height. “We tried calling you, but your phone went straight to voicemail. Megumi said that it does that sometimes. He took a nap earlier, but I’m sure he’ll be sleepy soon after all of those games. I also gave him dinner earlier.” 

“That’s… I just-” Toji struggles to find words, especially when you slightly tilt your head to the side and blink slowly. He exhales, then snaps himself out of his daze. “Thank you so much,” he says. “Are you new? I swear, I’m not usually this late.” Great. Megumi’s pretty teacher might think I’m just the worst parent on this damn planet. 

You nod. “Yes, I’m new. Today was my first day with this angel,” You use a finger to gently boop Megumi’s nose, and he smiles, shyly burying his face into Toji’s shoulder, “and the other kids. I figured you might’ve been held up at work or something. It’s okay. Things happen. Besides, he’s such a well-behaved kid. I didn’t mind spending this much time with him.” 

Toji places Megumi on the ground, then gently taps his shoulder. “Let’s grab your stuff, okay?” As he helps Megumi pack his backpack, Toji bites back a smile when he sees you watching him out of the corner of his eye. He notes the way you fiddle with your hands and avert your gaze after catching yourself. 

You walk over to your desk and open a drawer, pulling out three suckers from a sealed jar. Once Megumi had all of his things packed, you kneel before him, handing him the suckers one by one. “Here you go. One for you, one for your sister, and one for your dad. I can tell he works really, really hard.” 

Toji doesn’t hide his smile this time; it was impossible, especially when Megumi accepts them excitedly. “Candy! Thank you!” He hugs you gently, and you return it, rubbing your hand up and down his back. “You’re so welcome. Thanks for being so sweet today. You made my first day so fun.” 

A muffled gasp coming from outside has the three of you looking towards the window. Toji sees Tsumiki’s face squished against the glass with her usual, excited smile, and Shiu Kong standing beside her, looking relieved when he sees Megumi safe and sound. He purposely avoids Toji’s glare. 

The sound of Megumi’s small yawn gets his attention, and Toji’s gaze softens when the boy rubs his tired eyes. “Aw, ‘m sorry. It’s past your bedtime. Let’s get you home.” He leans down to pick him up again, and once you have your belongings, the two of you leave the building together. 

When you three make it outside, you face Toji and Megumi. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Megumi,” you say quietly to him, who is slowly beginning to drift off. Then you look up at Toji, who is softly smiling at you. “And I’ll see you tomorrow, too, right?” You ask.

“Yeah, you will.” 

You wave goodbye, and Toji makes sure you get into your car safely. “Hey, Megs,” Toji gently shakes Megumi as he watches you drive out of the parking lot. “Do you know her name?” 

“Ms. [Y/L/N]” 

He chuckles. “No, kid, her first name.” 

“I dunno,” Megumi mumbles before closing his eyes and resting his cheek on Toji’s shoulder. “Sleepy, papa.” 

“Ah, there they are!” Shiu exclaims, and Toji would’ve thrown a punch if his son wasn’t in his arms, and if his seven year-old daughter wasn’t happily skipping towards him. “Hi, papa!” 

“Hi, sweets, how was school today?” 

“Good,” Tsumiki says, then grins mischievously as she points to the spot where your car was just a minute ago. “You like her!” She teases. “You wanna hug her and kiss her and give her chocolates!” 

“Alright, you.” Toji rolls his eyes and laughs softly as he uses his free arm to lift up a giggly Tsumiki, then presses a kiss to her forehead. “Both of you should be in bed. Let’s get home.” 

“Aw, okay.” Tsumiki then leans forward to gently kiss her sleeping baby brother’s cheek. “Night, Gumi.” 

Toji secures both Tsumiki and Megumi in his car, and then faces Shiu, who is smiling nervously. “Well, look at that. Megumi’s doing great and you even developed a crush. How cute. All’s well that ends well.” 

“Very cute, but guess what?” 

“What?” 

Toji finally throws a swift punch at Shiu’s jaw, greatly holding back his strength so it wouldn’t break. Shiu stumbles, then groans, cupping his face with his hands. “Okay, fine, I deserved that.” 

“Damn right,” Toji says as he opens the door to the driver’s seat. “See you later.” 

—

Toji almost never stresses about his appearance in the mornings. After all, it was just dropping off the kids. But this morning, he frets over which shirt would look better with the jeans he picked out, if he should wear a different type of cologne, or if he should slick his hair back. 

All because he’s seeing you again. 

He decides to skip the new cologne and go for his usual, simple one, dresses in a dark shirt to match the jeans, and also ditches the idea of slicking his hair. Once the kids are ready for the day, he leaves early and goes to a coffee shop to pick up a medium cup of coffee. First, he drops Tsumiki off at school, then he takes Megumi to preschool. 

Toji spots you almost immediately. You were out in the front amongst the other preschool teachers, parents and their kids, wearing a gorgeous yellow top and simple blue jeans. When you see Toji and Megumi approaching, you pause your conversation with your coworker and walk over to them. Toji decides that he likes that, and that he loves the way you kneel in front of Megumi to meet his eye level, telling him good morning and asking if he was excited for the day. 

You raise to your feet, Toji hands you the cup of coffee he purchased earlier. “For you,” he says, “As a thank you for everything yesterday.” 

“Aw.” Your eyes light up as you accept the cup. “Mr. Fushiguro, this—” 

“Toji,” he corrects softly, and he ignores the way his heart stutters when your smile grows. 

“Well, Toji, this is lovely. Thank you so much.” 

“I never caught your name last night.” 

You tell him your name, and Toji tests it once. From the way you shyly avert your gaze, he can tell you that like the way it sounds in his voice. Megumi clears his throat, and Toji looks down to see him staring up at him, his brow raised in suspicion. “You never stay this long. Don’t you have to go to work?” 

Damn, kid. Thought we were on the same team. 

You laugh as Toji rolls his eyes and sticks his tongue out at Megumi—a gesture that the four year-old returns immediately. “Well, he’s right, gotta get going,” Toji says, looking back up at you. “I’ll see you later?” 

“Yes.” You nod, then point to the warm cup in your hands. “Thanks again for the coffee. Have a great day at work.” 

“You too.” Toji then gently ruffles Megumi’s hair. “Be good.” 

He doesn’t realize how big he’s smiling until he’s back in the car, and he sighs as he remembers Shiu’s words from the night before. A crush. That word seems so silly. He’s not a teen in high school. Toji looks up just in time to watch you take Megumi’s hand and lead him inside the building with the other children, and he chuckles to himself as he starts the car up.

Maybe “silly” was okay when you’re this pretty.

[roosterforme]

Wrong Number | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley was planning on a quiet night at home with a beer and a basketball game on TV. When he receives a text from a wrong number, he's left looking at a beautiful photo of you. Now he just needs to persuade you to ditch the guy you meant to text and focus on him instead.

Warnings: Fluff, swearing, slight dirty talk, Bradley touching himself

Length: 4700 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written for Rocktober. Check out my masterlist for more. Banner made by @thedroneranger

Bradley had endured such a long week at work, all he wanted to do was change out of his uniform, grab a beer from his fridge and lounge around on the couch in his underwear without a responsibility in sight. Nobody should have to work until ten on a Friday night, but it had taken him that long to sort through the massive stack of paperwork from Admiral Simpson. At least now he had nothing planned for the rest of his evening.

His apartment was too hot, and the cold bottle of beer pressed to his bare thigh as he reached for the TV remote left some droplets of condensation. It felt good. He took another sip as his phone vibrated next to him. With a soft grunt, he abandoned the remote in favor of the phone and unlocked it with his pass code.

There was a new text from an unknown number. And there was a photo attached. He grimaced, afraid of what he was going to find if he tapped on it. He read the phone number twice, but it didn't sound familiar beyond the San Diego area code. He let his head tip back as he recalled the time he pissed Nat off and she gave his phone number to a random sailor in retaliation. Bradley really hoped he wasn't going to have to kindly ask someone to stop sending him dick pics like last time. 

Before he lost the nerve, he tapped on the message, and his screen was suddenly filled with a photo of a woman who looked just a few years younger than him. And she was hot. He paused with his beer bottle halfway to his lips before letting it settle back down to his thigh. 

Hey, Alan. It's me. So now you have my phone number, too.

Bradley didn't know who the hell Alan was, but he wasn't mad about the mix-up. This photo was something else. It almost looked like it was taken in the bathroom at the Hard Deck. The lighting was bad, and there was a paper towel dispenser in the background, but whoever you were.... damn, you were stunning. All pretty features and smiling like you had a secret. 

It took him a moment to stop staring at the photo and return to the previous screen and your message. He was going to have to tell you that he wasn't Alan and that you had the wrong number, but he just sat there and tapped his phone case instead. He didn't even like the name Alan, but damn if he didn't want to be Alan right now. That lucky bastard had you interested in him. 

Bradley was wondering how the mix-up happened in the first place as he drafted up a text to you. Only some sort of fucking idiot wouldn't check and double check that he gave you the right number. "Amateurs," he mumbled as he typed with a little smirk on his face.

Hey, sorry to inform you, but this actually isn't Alan. However, I wouldn't mind one bit if you kept sending me the photos that are meant for him.

He hit send and tossed his phone aside, assuming you'd just block him and move on with your night. He brought his beer bottle back to his lips and enjoyed the way the drink helped cool him down while he contemplated taking a shower, but when he reached for the remote again, his phone vibrated. 

There was another message from the same number. Intrigued, Bradley unlocked his phone again, and he was pleased to see another text and another photo.

Hi, Not-Alan. Sorry about that! I hope you have a great night.

This photo was similar to the first one, except that you were flipping him the peace sign and winking which made Bradley laugh. You seemed fun, even through this limited interaction. And he was sure that was the ladies' bathroom at the Hard Deck, which pissed him off, because he got out of work so late he didn't feel like going out tonight. Maybe if he had been there, you wouldn't have been talking to Alan in the first place.

"Damn it." He was intrigued. He wanted to know more about this.

My night is substantially better now that I have two photos of you. So where did Alan get off to anyway? And why is he trying to steal my phone number?

This time Bradley was dying for another response. But it didn't come. He stared at his phone for a solid minute before returning to his beer and downing the rest of the bottle. Still nothing. He stood and made his way into the kitchen, tossing his empty into the recycling bin before getting another one from the fridge and eyeing up the food situation. He should probably eat something, but he swore he heard his phone vibrating. When he looked over to the couch, the screen was lit up. 

He slammed the fridge door and opened the new bottle before heading back to his phone. There was no photo this time, but there was a new message.

I actually lost Alan in the crowd, so really, the man could be just about anywhere. And I don't think he was trying to steal your number at all, Not-Alan. He wrote it on my palm, and it smeared before I could add it to my phone.

"Okay," Bradley said out loud. "Now we're getting somewhere." He sat down on the couch with his beer on the coffee table and started a new message. 

Alan should learn how to write neater in the future, because he's missing out here. You have to double check that someone who looks like you got the number right. Everyone knows that.

Bradley decided that he was going to have no shame for the night. Not as long as you kept writing back to him. He was contemplating how to save your number in his phone when another selfie with a message came through. You were out by the bar at the Hard Deck with a smile on your face, and you were holding up your palm complete with Bradley's smeared phone number.

Does this number look familiar, Not-Alan? Still no actual Alan in sight, by the way. 

Bradley supposed that the 7 could have been mistaken for a 1. Or maybe Alan's phone number had a 5 that got smeared into a 6. It didn't really matter. Bradley was going to shoot his shot and hope Alan didn't resurface. 

Good, Alan can just stay lost. What's your name, pretty girl?

Then he saved your number as Pretty Girl, and this time he did manage to turn the TV on while he waited with his phone in his hand. He muted the Clippers game and picked up his beer before promptly setting it back down again.

Pretty Girl: Not so fast, Not-Alan. You tell me your name first. And how old you are. And your blood type and the last four of your social security number. 

Bradley laughed and started typing. He realized he hadn't stopped smiling for the last twenty minutes as he hit send.

I'm Bradley. I'm 34. O positive. 2305.

On a regular night, the basketball game would have held his attention, but tonight he couldn't stop looking at his phone. "Come on, Pretty Girl," he muttered, running his beer bottle along his thigh before taking a sip. 

Pretty Girl: Okay, Bradley. You have my attention. Send me a selfie exactly where you are, and I'll think about telling you my name. No changing into something nicer. No fixing your hair. Just a selfie. Right now.

Bradley looked down at himself in just his black boxer briefs and mumbled, "If you say so." When he set his phone camera to selfie mode, he looked at the screen and realized his hair still looked pretty decent from work. So he went ahead and took a picture where he was wearing a bit of a skeptical smirk, and he sent it before he could think twice. 

And now his heart was beating a little faster. This was probably where you'd stop responding. Oh hell, at least he went for it, but a few minutes later, you still hadn't sent anything back to him. Maybe he could have tried to hide the scars on his neck and cheek, but what was the point? Clearly you were sending him actual selfies you'd taken tonight, and he did exactly what you'd told him to. Then his phone vibrated.

Pretty Girl: Do you really expect me to believe that you're not just googling "hot shirtless guy with a mustache", downloading a photo, and trying to pass it off as yourself?

He tipped his head back and laughed. There was just something about you. He didn't even know your name or what your voice sounded like, but he could already tell he was going to like both of those things. If you ever told him or let him hear you.

That's really me. Promise. Will you tell me your name now? Or do I have to keep calling you Pretty Girl?

He was wondering if you were still at the bar, surrounded by guys like Alan who would love to take you home while you were chatting with him. And he hoped the next text would contain your name. But you just ignored him when you wrote back a few minutes later. 

Pretty Girl: Prove you're not just sending some photos of a random hot dude. Go stand by your open refrigerator and take a selfie. Then take another one with your toothbrush. 

"She's a handful," Bradley murmured as he stood with a smile. He carried his beer into the kitchen, opened his refrigerator and snapped a selfie where the fridge light somehow accentuated his features nicely. Then he left his beer on the counter while he went into his bathroom. He was actively trying not to smile for this one where he had his red toothbrush hanging out of the side of his mouth, but he was on the verge of laughing at how ridiculous his night turned out to be. 

He typed up a message and attached both photos and then sent them off while he finished his beer at the kitchen counter, Clippers game forgotten. 

What is this, Pretty Girl? A hostage negotiation? I already told you, that's really me.

It didn't take too long for you to respond this time, and Bradley wasn't even letting his screen dim long enough to need to unlock it now.

Pretty Girl: Are you naked in these photos?

"Jesus," he muttered. Of course he wasn't. Did you want him to be? Shit, he needed to stop thinking about that.

No! I'm wearing underwear. You told me not to get changed or anything.

He felt flushed and too warm as he set his phone down on the counter and went to open some windows. Then he walked a few laps around his apartment in an effort to chill the fuck out. He wasn't even with you, and you were under his skin. 

When he returned to his phone, there was a selfie and a message waiting for him. In the photo, you were sipping a drink, and the way the straw pressed to your perfect lips had him practically moaning. 

Pretty Girl: My friend thinks there's something wrong with me. I'm at a Navy bar in San Diego at the moment. There are hot guys galore, and yet I'm glued to my phone. 

"Shit, shit, shit." Bradley thought about getting dressed and heading out to the bar himself. Then maybe he could hear you tell him your name in person right before he pulled the straw away from your mouth and kissed you.

How much longer are you going to be at the Hard Deck, Pretty Girl?

Bradley started heading for his bedroom closet when his phone vibrated in his hand.

Pretty Girl: How do you know I'm at the Hard Deck? Do I need to smash my phone to bits and go into hiding?

"Fuck," he grunted, typing so quickly he had to go back and fix several spelling errors before he could send it. The last thing he wanted to do was make you uncomfortable, so he paused before getting any clothing out of his closet.

Because I'm in the Navy, and I live in San Diego. And I recognized the inside of the bathroom from the first photo you sent me. I swear I'm not creepy. You can ask Penny, the bartender and owner of that fine establishment. I spend enough time there. Show her my photo.

Bradley collapsed onto his bed with his forearm over his eyes and his phone clutched to his chest. He didn't have to check the time to know it had been a while since he texted you. He also didn't have to look at his phone to know it was after midnight now and that you and he had been chatting for almost two hours. Bradley jolted when the phone vibrated against his chest.

Pretty Girl: Okay. Alright. Penny is a sweetheart, and your story checks out. Also, she told me your call sign and then told me to have you verify what it is for my own peace of mind. So what is it, Bradley? And how do you know what the ladies' restroom here looks like?

Oh, he was going to owe Penny big time. He typed away as he lay sprawled out on his bed.

My call sign is Rooster. And as for your bathroom question.... are you really going to make me answer that?

Bradley closed his eyes and thought about the girl who had taken him into the bathroom with her last year. He was pretty sure she had brown hair, but other than that, he couldn't really recall. But he did remember looking at that paper towel holder on the wall and the framed photo of an F/A-14 that was hanging over it while he was in there with her. 

He wouldn't mind taking a trip there with you, that was for sure. Or maybe you and he could skip the scandalous bar hookup and just go right to dinner or a movie. For some reason, he thought he might actually prefer that.

Pretty Girl: Be back soon. I'm getting a ride home.

Bradley mused out loud, "It better not be from Alan." Shit, he could have offered to go pick you up and make sure you got home safely. He'd only had those two beers all night, and now he was picturing some faceless guy named Alan driving you home and pawing at you.

He texted you back.

Let me know when you get home, okay? And you can always just call me.

With a sigh, he got out of bed and plugged his phone in, not sure what to expect at this point. He went back into the bathroom and used his red toothbrush. And then he went back to the living room and closed all the windows. When he was in his room again, he had no new notifications as he climbed in bed. He was about to text you again and check in when his phone rang.

CALL FROM Pretty Girl

Bradley was smiling as he answered. "Hey, Pretty Girl."

A soft laugh preceded your voice, and he had to bite the inside of his cheek as you said, "Hi, Bradley with the O positive blood. Are you trying to tell me that you were in that bar bathroom with a girl?"

He found himself laughing. "Can I plead the fifth?"

When you moaned softly, he dropped his phone onto the pillow and had to scramble to get it. "Oh, my god. Even your voice is sexy."

Okay. He should not be on the verge of touching himself after you spoke three whole sentences to him. "You make it home safely?" he asked, trying to play it cool as he thought about those photos you sent him. 

"Mmhmm. A very nice man named Alan drove me home. He's right here next to me as I get changed for bed."

Bradley thought for a beat that he had met his match in you. "You better be lying. You know what, put Alan on the phone."

Your laughter filled him up as you said, "He's not really here. I had to ditch him, because he doesn't even have a mustache. Apparently that's a deal breaker for me now?"

Holy shit. Bradley was in trouble. He was getting turned on, and you weren't even really saying anything dirty. "You're killing me. You gonna tell me your name, Pretty Girl?"

"No. I think I'm going to hold onto it a little longer."

"Fine. But please explain to me how I've never seen you at the Hard Deck before. I'm certain I would remember your face."

Your voice sounded a little softer now as you said, "I just moved to Coronado. It was my first time at the bar."

If he hadn't worked so late today, Bradley would have probably been there tonight as well. "You had fun? You think you'll go back again?"

"Probably," you replied casually. "When do you think you'll be there?"

Bradley was so warm he was starting to sweat. "Pretty Girl, you just say the word, and I'll clear my whole damn calendar."

Your little sighs and soft giggles were going to be the death of him. "You know, I still have Alan's, or rather your phone number on my hand."

He imagined himself kissing your palm and rewriting his phone number. "Should be in my handwriting. I'll make sure I always bring a pen with me to the bar."

You cleared your throat softly, and Bradley imagined you climbing into bed. "Penny told me to watch out for some of the other guys. But she said you're okay."

"Just okay?"

"Actually, she called you a big, brown eyed puppy dog."

Bradley laughed. "I've been called worse."

"I'm sure you have," you replied quickly. "You deserve some sort of punishment for daring to look good with a mustache."

"It's a blessing and a curse. Now, are you going to send me another photo? Or are you going to just agree to meet me tomorrow night?"

He heard a rustling noise and then you softly said, "Alan is not going to like this one bit." And then another photo arrived, and this one had Bradley's mouth hanging open. 

"Now it's my turn to ask if you're naked in this picture." He was taking in every inch of your exposed skin and your bedding tucked up to your collar bones. You took your makeup off for bed, and you looked cozy and intimate. And you were talking to him. You were letting him see this. Bradley had to actively think about not touching himself. 

"Totally naked."

"Fuck."

"Send me another one?"

"Yeah," he grunted, swallowing hard as he tried to pose for another selfie just how he was, sprawled out on his pillow with his left arm bent and tucked back behind his head. But his cheeks looked flushed, and his eyes looked darker than usual. He was turned on. 

Fuck it. He snapped the photo and sent it. And about ten seconds later, he was greeted with the strangled sound you made.

"It should be illegal for someone with that mustache to look so good. It's rude, honestly. Bradley, you're kind of rude, because now I want to know...."

He was hanging on your every word. "Know what, Pretty Girl?"

The call went completely silent before you said softly and sweetly, "What your mustache feels like...everywhere."

A soft, startled laugh escaped his lips. You were on the verge of some dirty talk now, he could just tell. And his cock was hard as he replied with, "I'd love to let you find out. But before you respond, I need to know how much you've had to drink tonight. I don't want to take advantage of anything here."

You whimpered on the other end of the call. "A mustache, brown eyes, and a gentleman? All Alan did for me was buy me those two Long Island iced teas."

Bradley grunted and said, "That's enough about Alan. Why don't you go ahead and tell me where you'd like to feel my mustache first, Pretty Girl."

You squeaked and said, "I want to feel it rough along my skin right below my ear while you whisper to me. Oh my god, I can't believe I said that out loud. I should just go to bed."

"Don't hang up," Bradley said, panting with need now. "Tell me more."

"Okay," you sighed with another little squeak. "I want to feel it on my lips. While I'm sitting in your lap, licking the taste of that beer you drank from your mouth."

"Holy shit," he groaned, palming himself through his boxer briefs.

"I know," you whined with need. "And I want to feel it on the back of my neck while you do filthy things to me. And I don't even know you!"

"You will," he guaranteed. "Please, tell me what time I can meet you tomorrow."

Bradley listened to the rustle of your sheets as he waited. Then you finally said, "Seven o'clock? At the Hard Deck?"

"I'll be there, Pretty Girl. I can't wait to see you."

--------------------------

It was barely even 6:30, but you were already at the bar all made up and wearing a cute dress. Penny recognized you right away, which was kind of nice and kind of embarrassing. When she asked if you wanted another Long Island, you waved her off and said, "Nothing yet. I'm meeting someone."

Her eyes lit up as she asked, "Is it Rooster?"

You'd barely slept all night, preferring to look at the four selfies he'd sent you after you ended the call around two. There was a little more dirty talk, sure, but you and he also learned a bit more about each other. And now you were going to meet this naval aviator who was originally from Virginia but loved the Los Angeles Clippers face to face. 

"Yeah. It's Rooster."

Penny looked truly delighted. "You have nothing to worry about. He's very sweet."

"Tell that to the butterflies," you muttered as you placed one hand on your stomach for a beat, willing the nerves to dissipate as you walked away. You'd told Bradley you wanted his mustache on your body. In several places. And then he told you he thought you were so pretty and fun that he wanted to kiss you everywhere. And right now you were just mystified as to how this could have possibly happened only a week after you moved to this neighborhood. And you still didn't know what happened to Alan after you went to the ladies' bathroom and saved the wrong number in your phone.

You laughed when you thought about it, and then you ran your hands along the fabric of your dress. You were so antsy, your palms were sweaty. You looked down at yourself and just got more nervous. Bradley hadn't seen much of your body in the photos you'd sent to him. You'd seen plenty of his though, and he looked tall and muscular even next to his damn refrigerator. And his face was gorgeous, right down to that sinful looking mustache. 

And you were just... you. Alan was really more your speed with his nerdy glasses and messy hairstyle and his lack of ability to even grow any sort of facial hair at all. You just hoped that Bradley wouldn't take one look at you in person and walk right back out of the bar. 

You were about to tell Penny that you thought you needed a drink after all when the door caught your eye, and Bradley strolled into the bar like he owned the place. "Oh...fuck," you whispered, gaping at him as he ran his fingers through his hair. The photos hadn't even done him justice. He had to be over six feet tall, and he was so broad and muscular, he looked like he could pick you up and toss you around a little bit. "Shit." He was wearing some snug fitting jeans and a tropical print shirt like he just knew he could pull off the most ridiculous look. "Damn." He was glancing around, trying to find you while you started scouring the room unsuccessfully for another exit. 

You were trapped in here, and he was walking further into the bar now. And you didn't think you could hide halfway behind this couple who was making out for very much longer.  

As Bradley's eyes scanned the crowd again, he looked a little apprehensive. His brow was scrunched, and he checked the time on his watch. You knew it was almost seven. So you took a deep breath and let it out slowly, and then you scooted one step to your left. When his gaze came your way again, his eyes landed on you. And then his face softened. The apprehension melted away, and he smiled a cute and somehow sexy little grin that made you whimper.

Now he was heading your way, his gait sure and steady. And then he was just a few feet away and you could see the scars on his face that you'd studied all night in the photos. And you could see the flecks of gold in his eyes that somehow the selfies didn't capture. And then he was talking, and his voice was even better in person.

"Pretty Girl."

Okay, so he'd seen you up close, and he wasn't running away. That had to be a good sign, right? You managed to say just one slightly breathless word. "Hi." And then his smile grew, and he was closing the space between your body and his. He was reaching for your face and running one rough thumb along your cheek. And then he kissed you.

And the soft scrape of his mustache was even better than all of the ways you'd spent your night imagining it might feel. You couldn't help but return his kiss, and somehow your hands ended up pressed to the front of him, sliding up to his chest. 

When he broke the kiss, he stayed close, his lips not far from your face. He covered your hands with his, keeping them on his body. And then he leaned close to your ear, his mustache scraping along your soft skin there as he whispered, "Tell me your name, Pretty Girl. I'm dying here."

Soft laughter bubbled out of you as he pulled away from you a bit, and those butterflies were going wild. His eyes were fixed on your face, begging for an answer this time as he stroked your hands with his thumbs. And then you told him, and he tried your name out on his tongue a few times with that grin that you liked so much. He kept saying it softly until you kissed him this time, and then he guided your arms around his neck. 

"Listen," he said in that raspy voice that you'd love to focus on all night. "I have no problem staying here for a while if you want to. I bet you could even persuade me to join you in the ladies' room."

"Sounds tempting," you told him with a smirk.

"It really does. But we could also just ditch the bar and grab dinner instead? Maybe watch the Clippers game and have a drink at my place? I'm a little worried Alan might show up here and try to lure you away, if I'm being honest."

You practically snorted with laughter. "I can't even really remember what Alan looks like. He was totally gone from my mind after the first selfie you sent me. Let's get out of here."

He took you by the hand. "Anything you want, Pretty Girl."

-------------------------

I love dreamy loverboy Bradley, and I love Pretty Girl too. Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

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[strang3lov3]

Cinnabon

Summary: (mall rats 7, final part!) Joel ruins a special moment, leading to another stupid argument, leading to him fucking the daylights out of you on his couch. Lovingly.

Tags: AU where yeast is not dead and we can all bake and be happy. Cordyceps is no longer in the flour/sugar either (work with me) Cinnabons, 69, dirty talk, unprotected Piv, creampie because it’s me, strang3lov3. soft dom joel because again, it’s me, strang3lov3. Strange highs and strange lows, that’s how my love goes. You get it.

A/N: As always, thank you @papipascalispunk for editing ❤️ you’ve helped me so much on this series and you have no clue how thankful I am for that. Definitely abusing your talents for the next shit I wanna write! And thank you to everyone who’s read and reblogged, commented, all of that good stuff. This was a blast to write!!!

This may not be the absolute end of these two, so you might get an update on them here and there, most likely in the form of yet another lovers quarrel. But I have so much stuff planned and I hope you continue to keep up with me ❤️ excited for the new year and to share what else i've been writing with all of you 🩷

It’s early in the morning in late December when you’re walking up to Joel’s porch, holding a basket full of ingredients and a dusty copy of Betty Crocker’s Cookbook. You knock on the door, no answer. With Joel’s poor hearing, sometimes it’s better to knock on his back door. He seems to hear it better, closer to his bedroom and all that. You make your way to his back door, where you find Ellie quietly opening the window next to the door, no doubt sneaking back from a friend’s house. You startle each other, “Ellie, hi,” you say. You wrinkle your nose, she smells like weed. You can’t help but smirk.

“Oh,” she says, “Hi. I’m not– I’m just–”

“I won’t tell Joel,” you smile. Ellie’s staring at your basket of goodies, where one of your lacy Victoria’s Secret thongs sits on top of a blue Cinnabon apron. “I’m just…baking. For Joel. Are you gonna be home today?”

It’s Ellie’s turn to smirk at you, as she opens the window the rest of the way and lifts herself inside the house. You hear her heavy footsteps before she unlocks and opens the door for you. “I can disappear,” she replies, “I require payment, though.” 

“I’ll leave you a plate outside your door.”

“Deal.” 

Ellie goes to her room probably to change clothes, and you go toward Joel’s kitchen. “I want two of whatever you’re making,” Ellie calls out before slamming the back door again, probably going back to her friend’s house. That girl certainly knows how to negotiate. You can’t help but love her for it.

Joel usually wakes up early, but he’s not on his recliner where you expect him to be. Must be in bed. You smile to yourself, picturing Joel coming downstairs in his pajamas, hair messy and sighing in pleasure at the sweet aroma of butter and cinnamon. 

You’re making Cinnabons this morning. Well, cinnamon rolls, as Betty Crocker puts it. When you and Joel were in the Barnes and Noble at the mall picking up books for Jackson’s library, you had stumbled across Betty Crocker’s Cookbook. Flipping through the pages, you found a recipe for cinnamon rolls and thought back to that first time in the mall with Joel, where he explained what a Cinnabon was, and then lied about his sweet tooth. 

There were loads of recipes, many interesting pictures too. You brought the book to Joel and pointed at a picture of some odd, translucent dome-shaped food item. He told you it was called Jell-O, and that no one misses it. You wanted to take the cookbook back with you, but there wasn’t room in the duffel bag. And you couldn’t bear to rip out a single page for one recipe. That would just be cruel.

At the end of the day, you went back to Tommy’s office with Joel. Joel usually walks you home, but he didn’t that day. Said he was running late for game night with Ellie, so he took off quickly. Tommy told you he’d walk you home, though.

As you and Tommy went through some of the books, he heard you sigh disappointedly, “What’s gotcha down, hon?”

“There was this book I wanted, but we didn’t have room.” 

“What book?”

“Cookbook,” you replied, “I wanted to make a recipe for Joel.” 

“Ah,” Tommy murmured, flipping through the pages of an old picture book, “Which recipe?”

“Cinnamon rolls.”

“Oh man,” Tommy groaned. He checked his watch, then looked at you with a light in his eyes. 

“I’ll take you back there right now to get that book.” 

“You’d do that?”, you asked.

“For you, of course. But I got my motives. Ya gotta hook me up with some of those rolls.”

There are few things that make you feel as loved and appreciated as when Tommy’s eating your food, showering you in the sweetest compliments and praises. No problem, you’d gladly share your baking with him. So Tommy took you back to the mall. You led him to the bookstore, picked up your book and went on your merry way. Tommy still hadn’t gotten to check the mall out for himself, though. So he wandered through the same areas you did, through the food court you and Joel picked through all that time ago. At the Cinnabon stand, he tossed you a blue apron with the word ‘Cinnabon’ embroidered at the chest. “Bet ya could make Joel turn bright red with this.”

You picked up what he was putting down immediately. And, thinking about it, you had a lacy thong that would match the apron perfectly. You remembered the blush on Joel’s cheeks as you tried on lingerie at Victoria’s Secret, how he mumbled something about lingerie being a waste of time before fucking you in the dressing room, still wearing your pretty pink chiffon babydoll. You wondered if faced with a big, gooey cinnamon roll sitting in front of him, and you in nothing but an apron and a thong, he’d still lie about that sweet tooth of his and his disdain for lingerie. Cause for an experiment. 

–

In Joel’s kitchen, you prepare the recipe. You prepped the dough last night, giving it plenty of time to rise. All you have to do this morning is prepare the cinnamon-sugar mixture and the icing. Oh, and put on that apron and thong. Not too hard. 

Once the rolls are assembled in the pan, you put them in Joel’s oven and change into your little outfit, feeling a little breeze on your bare ass. Good thing Ellie’s gone. As you’re waiting for the rolls to bake, you lean over Joel’s kitchen table and flip through the pages of your cookbook. The Jell-O still has you perplexed. 

Some time goes by. You’re reading about the Jell-O, how Betty Crocker said that it was great for parties and baby showers and other things like that. The slam of the glass door behind you startles you. You whip around, and there’s Joel with bright red cheeks, looking shocked and horrified. Through the glass door, you see Tommy in Joel’s yard. He waves at you, smiling. You wave back.

“Jesus Christ,” Joel grumbles, quickly pulling the blinds over the glass door to protect your modesty, “You gonna explain why you’re bare assed in my kitchen?”

“I thought you were sleeping,” you reply.

“That doesn’t answer my question,” he grumbles, as the egg timer you set prior goes off with a ding. You open the oven and pull out the cinnamon rolls with a pair of potholders, giving Joel a perfect view of your entire ass. “Oh my god,” he groans. When you turn around, he’s pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking his head, always so dramatic. You reach for the Pyrex measuring bowl full of icing you prepared and begin drizzling it over the warm cinnamon rolls. “You drive me fuckin’ crazy. You’re somethin’ else, you know that? I never know what–”, Joel stops speaking, and you look back at him once more. He’s intrigued, eyes wide. The pastry has pulled his attention away from your nearly-bare body. “Those uh– those cinnamon rolls?”

“Cinnabons,” you correct him, pointing to the embroidered logo on your chest, “But yeah– cinnamon rolls.”

“Right,” he murmurs, stepping closer to you. He reaches into one of his drawers for a fork and pushes you out of the way. 

“Joel,” you complain as he steals a bite of the cinnamon rolls, right out of the pan. He blows on it first, careful not to burn his tongue. When he tastes the pastry, his eyes flutter shut. He moans softly. “You said once that you missed Cinnabons,” you explain, speaking softly. Joel reaches for another bite, right out of the pan.

“Mhm,” he mumbles, mouth full of dessert.

“What’s the verdict?”

“Cinnabon’s better,” he answers plainly. 

Your face drops. “What?”

“Yeah this–”, he takes another bite, “S’no good at all.”

He’s fucking with you. Probably gonna say something dumb like how you should give him the pan, let him dispose of those no good cinnamon rolls for you. “Dick,” you punch his arm for scaring you like that. He doesn’t mind. 

“You made these for me?”

“Yeah,” you say quietly, “For you.”

“For me,” he repeats, a soft smile on his face. You’re kind of baffled at his mood change, but you know what they say about men and food; the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, all that stuff. He steps closer to you, backing you against the countertop and turning off his oven, still wearing that smile, like he knows something you don’t.

“But I owe Tommy and Ellie one, too,” you continue, voice a little shaky. You’re nervous, why is he making you nervous? Joel sets his fork down and stares at you, lovingly, tenderly. “I made two batches before this, fucked both of those up. And then I ran out of sugar, actually. Tommy had to steal me some more.”

“I love you.”

His words hit you like a ton of bricks. He says it plainly, no frills. Just out with it. 

“You do?”

“Mhm,” he hums, “I do. Still would like an answer as to why you’re half-naked, though.”

Your face heats up. What were you saying? The cinnamon rolls, right. 

“I was– I don’t know. I had to knead the rolls by hand. The recipe said a stand mixer would be easier, but I didn’t…”, you trail off, feeling a little fuzzy, like you can’t think straight, your train of thought slipping away from you, “Didn’t have one. I love you too, actually.”

“I know,” he replies softly. He never doubted it for a second. Lord, he’s so handsome. His eyes sparkle more than usual, his fluffy curls untamed. The flannel he’s wearing suits him perfectly, and you can’t help but stare, stammering quietly. He reaches for your face with one hand, wrapping the other around your waist and pulling you close to his body, “I’m gonna kiss you now.”

Oh, fuck. You squirm out from his hold, away from the counter he held you against. Joel looks absolutely baffled as you smile sheepishly. “Can you grab me a plate for the Cinnabons?”, you ask, “I need to leave one by Ellie’s door.”

“I’d like to kiss you first, if you don’t mind,” he says, walking towards you. You keep walking backwards, around the kitchen table. Joel follows you as you look through his drawers for a spatula, opening and closing cabinets with shaky hands as you try to find a plate. Where are his fucking plates? Joel reaches for your hand to stop you. “Will you let me kiss you?”

“No.”

“No?”

“No.”

Joel’s missing something here. Has to be. You love Joel. Joel loves you. That’s been established, just like, two minutes ago. And you’ve been intimate with him many times before. The next logical step in this series of very out of order steps would be to kiss you. Unless…“Are you nervous?”, he asks.

“About what?”, you ask, “Kissing?”

“No, underwater basket weaving. Yes, kissing,” he sighs, “You seem nervous.”

“I’m not nervous,” you lie, “I’d just like to be the one to do it first.”

“Oh,” Joel replies, still a little confused, “Yeah, naturally. Makes sense.” He takes you by the hand and leads you to his living room, sits you on the couch and takes his place next to you. “Lay it on me, then.” 

“I can’t just–”

“You can,” he interrupts, coaxing you gently, “Come closer.” You scoot closer, but it’s not enough for Joel. Still wearing nothing but a thong and an apron, he lifts you by your ass and places you on his lap. Joel wears an expectant look on his face as you adjust yourself on his lap, feeling so awkward and out of your element. You’ve kissed people before, this should be no big deal. You’re not sure why you’re so nervous with Joel, especially when you’ve done everything else with him. 

“Joel, I– I don’t know where to put my hands.”

“Right here,” he whispers, placing your hands on his shoulders, “Or here,” he moves your hands to his jaw, his patchy beard prickly under your fingertips. “Wherever you want.”

“I like your shoulders,” you whisper, dropping your hands back to his shoulders. One of your hands slides to the back of his neck, playing with his soft curls. 

“S’good,” he says. And oh, his eyes. Brown and so warm, inviting, so beautiful. 

“Close your eyes,” you demand, intimidated by his stare. “Sorry. Close your eyes,” you repeat, softer. 

“My bad,” Joel replies, his eyes now shut. You’ve never noticed how pretty his lashes are before now. They’re gorgeous, so long. “They’re closed now.”

“Okay,” you breathe. 

“You got it,” he encourages. 

God, this is daunting. You close your eyes, lean forward…and smooch him right on the cheek. There. Easy. 

“Doesn’t count,” Joel murmurs through a smile, eyes still closed. Fuck. You adjust yourself on his lap, lean forward and…nothing. Joel waits. And waits. And waits. 

“I’m gonna kiss you now,” you say, trying to will yourself to just do it.

“Okay, sweetheart. You got it,” he whispers. But you don’t kiss him yet, and Joel keeps waiting, feeling himself beginning to grow hard as you keep squirming on his lap, adjusting yourself some more. “Hon?”

“Yeah?”

“Any minute, now.”

“I know,” you say, “I’m gonna kiss you.” But you adjust again. A minute passes with you on Joel’s lap as he waits patiently for you to finally kiss him. Another minute. And then you lean forward and – nothing. 

“I’m gonna count down from three, and then you’ll kiss me. How about that?”

Yeah, sounds like a plan. 

“Okay,” you reply. 

“Three…two…”, Joel counts, and you prepare once more to kiss him, “One,” Nothing. Joel sighs, “You’re killin’ me here.”

“I was about to do it, Joel.”

“Uh huh.”

“I was,” you argue, “You just keep talking and–”

“Oh, you’re so full of shit. You’re the one doin’ most of the talkin’, like usual.”

“That’s not true,” you argue, but are interrupted when he opens his eyes. That’s not supposed to happen. He wears a mischievous grin as he sits up and his hands begin to slide up your sides. Your already pounding heart begins to beat even harder, faster, because Jesus Christ, he seems like he’s about to kiss you. “What are you doing?”

“Ya got three more seconds to kiss me. Three…”

“Joel, not funny,” you scold as he takes your face in his hands. 

“Two…”

You’re beginning to panic, “Joel–”

And then he fucking kisses you, the bastard! No tongue, just a sweet, gentle peck. It’s despicable. You shove him back on the couch and glare at him, “You kissed me!”

“How awful,” Joel says with mock sympathy before he leans forward and kisses you again. You shove him again, harder.

“You asshole. I was gonna do it.”

“No, you weren’t,” he replies plainly. He tries to kiss you again, but you keep your hands on his shoulders, pinning him to the couch cushion. Joel’s smirking, but you’re scowling.

“Yes, I was.”

“Okay,” Joel laughs, “We can redo it, then.”

You sigh, “No, Joel, we cannot redo it. You already ruined it.”

“Is that right?”

“Yeah. That’s right.”

“Shit. S’too bad,” Joel feigns a sympathetic pout as he wraps both hands around your wrists that pin his shoulders, removing them from his body. He pushes your hands behind your back, holding them tightly as he kisses you again. And again, this time a little longer. Your lips begin to slide against his, and…god, they’re soft. The bastard.

“You’re ruining–”

“For the love of god, you’re drivin’ me fuckin’ nuts,” Joel mumbles against your lips. 

“I was supposed to–”

“No. You had your turn. We’re doin’ it my way now,” Joel says, “That means,” he kisses you, “M’gonna kiss you,” another kiss, “And fuck you,” another kiss, “As I please, because I love you,” he whispers. He kisses you before he maneuvers you to lay across the couch cushions, now pinning your wrists above your head under just one of his hands “And you can’t do a thing about it. Got it?” 

“I–”

He doesn’t let you argue further. Always so stubborn, you. “Good girl. Yeah, you got it,” Joel kisses you again. It’s different this time. Deeper, hungrier, messier. So much tension, time spent dancing around feelings, and it’s all out there now. His tongue slides past your lips and he tastes like cinnamon and sugar. You’ve been depriving yourself of him for too long. “And after all this, I’m gonna eat some of them cinnabons you made. And I won’t share, either.”

With his free hand, Joel unzips his pants to free his cock. “You know what you do to me, trouble?” he asks, breathing heavily. “Got me hard as a fuckin’ rock with all that squirmin’ ya did instead of kissin’ me,” Joel lifts the bottom of your apron up, exposing yourself to him, already dripping wet as he pulls off your soaked thong. You could have expected the ensemble wouldn’t have lasted long. And how are you already wet? One second you’re arguing about a stupid kiss and the next, he’s got you pinned beneath him and you’re dripping. You gasp as Joel gathers your slick with his fingers before stroking his cock, dipping his head back down to kiss you. He kisses your lips sloppily, then your cheek and down your jaw, your neck, nipping at the skin and soothing the marks with his tongue. It feels hot and passionate, and loving and dirty; all the best things at once. 

“Oh, god,” you moan as he kisses further down your body, still stroking his cock. He pauses momentarily to pull the strap of the apron over your head, then lifting your ass to untie the apron in the back. He pulls the fabric away from you quickly, tossing it on the floor. He kisses your chest, dividing his attention equally between your breasts. Pinching, twisting one nipple, kissing and licking the other, then switching. He leaves them wet with his spit as he kisses down your body, stopping before he reaches your pussy. “Joel,” you whine, “Please– need your mouth on me.”

“Oh, convenient. Now you want my mouth,” he breathes, teasing you.

“Please, I need it, need you,” you beg. 

“Wouldn’t ya know it, I need your mouth too.”

“So? Me first.”

“God, you’re a brat. Nice try,” Joel pulls away from your body, taking off his clothes quickly, “Said we’re doin’ things my way. Tryin’ somethin’ new today. Scoot,” he motions for you to move to the side. “On all fours, now. Come on, up,” you scoot to the side where Joel tells you to, slightly confused as you take the position. Joel takes his place next to you, wrapping his arms around your thighs and pulling you down to his face. “Sit,” he tells you.

“Joel,” you begin to protest. Surely he doesn’t want you to actually sit on his face, right?

“You trust me.” It’s not a question. He knows you trust him, he knows you know he’ll take care of you. Of course he will. His voice is firm, confident, “I need you to sit,” as he pulls your center to his mouth, wasting no time in pressing kisses into your folds, slick and sticky with your growing arousal. Your breasts are pressed against his soft stomach, hands gripping his meaty thighs. Freeing an arm from its place at your hip, Joel wraps his hand around his cock, rock hard with a swollen blushed tip. He uses his other hand to reach for your head, pushing your face towards his member. “Take me in your mouth,” he says. “See? We’re compromising. S’what people in love do.” What an asshole.

Wrapping a hand around his thick cock, you guide his tip to your mouth, pressing wet kisses against the smooth skin. He tastes like he always does, familiar and masculine, salty and sweaty, as you trace over his swollen veins with your tongue. Joel groans against your cunt as he parts your lips, your tongue still painting delicate swirls on his skin. 

“Yeah, attagirl,” he praises in a raspy voice, “Best of both worlds, ain’t it?” Joel laps at your cunt, moaning softly at the way you taste, your arousal almost as sweet and delicious as your cinnamon rolls from earlier. He keeps you held firm against his face as he licks you, alternating between drawing firm lines with the tip of his tongue and fat stripes with his tongue flattened. 

“Mmmm,” you moan, voice muffled by his cock. You’ve got him as deep as you can take him, your nose nudging his balls slightly as you cup them gently in your hand. Joel surprises you when he dips his tongue into your pussy, tasting every bit of your pussy. You stop what you’re doing, the only thing your mind can focus on is the feeling of his tongue working magic inside you.

He swats your hip, “Know it feels good, but it goes both ways, sweetheart.”

“Please, Joel,” you beg. 

“You know the rules,” he says, “You stop, I stop. Keep goin’, you’re suckin’ my cock so good, sweetheart. So good. Always do, you know that?” You begin to bob your head on his cock once more, Joel rewarding you with wet, sloppy, open mouthed kisses against your pussy. It takes everything you have to focus on his pleasure when he attaches his lips to your clit, sucking gently on the sensitive spot and humming against you. It’s not long before that familiar feeling begins to build in your stomach, your first orgasm washing over you. 

You gasp for air, “Oh my god, Joel,” as he works you through your climax. Joel never lets up, not once. He keeps sucking, licking your clit, his facial hair tickling your skin and only adding to the overwhelming sensation. Once more, your peak begins to build. “I’m– fuck, I’m gonna come again.” 

“S’the fuckin’ point, my love,” Joel mumbles quietly, and you can feel his smirk. Despite the rules, you’re not even sucking his cock anymore, your face instead resting on his body, haphazardly stroking his length as pleasure erupts from your core. You’re a moaning mess, pussy dripping and soaking Joel’s face. 

Joel gives you a moment to catch your breath. Underneath you, he places one last kiss right on your clit before he gently slides himself out from your body. You’re hardly coherent as he meets you once more, this time his face inches above yours, caging you in his arms. His cock bounces between your legs and he leans down to kiss you again. His lips are wet and you can taste your arousal on his tongue. “Look at that, I stole another one,” he taunts. 

“You’re a dick,” you breathe against his mouth, your body betraying you as you can’t help the smile that forms on your lips.

“Yeah, yeah,” and in one swift motion, Joel lines himself up with your entrance and pushes into you. He kisses you again, swallowing your gasp as he parts your insides, letting you feel every inch of him. God, he feels good. You’ll never tire of that stretch, that delicious feeling of being completely full of him. 

“Oh, Joel,” you moan. He pulls out slowly, then slides back in at a harsher pace, grunting when he bottoms out inside of you. He takes both of your hands in his own, pinning them above your head as he rocks his hips. It’s tender yet dominant, just how everything is with Joel. Just how you like him. 

“Love this pussy,” he purrs, “An’ I love you so much,” as he fucks you deeply, intensely. You whimper through his thrusts, each stroke fluid and firm and intentional. He knows your body like his own. “Takin’ me so good, sweetheart. You always do.”

You writhe underneath him, relishing in the pleasure he gives you. His name and sweet whisperings of love are all you can speak, each word coming out in soft, broken cries. The wet, sticky noises of your pussy fill the room, along with your moans and Joel’s grunting, groaning, and heaving breaths. You tilt your head to the side, arms still pinned beneath Joel’s hands. You kiss his wrists and bite his skin there gently.

“Come with me, baby,” he coos, adjusting the angle and finding that sweet spot inside you, that spot he knows and loves. He lets go of your arms, one of his big, masculine hands now on your waist, the other thumbing your clit. “Give me one more, sweetheart.”

It’s all it takes. His words send you over the edge, your pussy squeezing him, walls fluttering and pulsing with every thrust of his cock. “Fuck, Joel,” you whimper as he fucks you through your orgasm. You wrap your legs around his body, the heels of your feet bouncing against his ass, simultaneously pulling him into a tight embrace with your now free arms. Everything about this moment with Joel is perfect, the way he smells, his hot skin, how close and safe you feel with him. It sends Joel over the edge, too. With your name on his lips, your cunt gushing and pulsing around his cock, he spills inside you, painting ribbons of himself deep inside you as he helps you ride out your own climax as long as he can. 

He pulls out of you with a soft groan. He cleans you quickly with his t-shirt, a warm smile on his lips. He kisses your forehead, then sits back against the couch, catching his breath. You sit up too, and Joel holds out his arm as an invitation for you to curl into his side. Your head resting on his shoulder, you stare at him. All of his beautiful features, warm brown eyes, his smile lines, his aquiline nose. And then, you do it. You kiss him. Long and deep, passionate. Hours could be passing, you don’t know. 

Joel breaks the kiss. He pulls away from you, no longer smiling warmly. Instead, he wears his teasing grin. “Finally,” he smirks. He holds up his hand for a high five. Fucker. You roll your eyes, lifting yourself off the couch and buttoning Joel’s flannel over yourself. You make your way to the kitchen, finding a plate and placing two cinnamon rolls on them. You reach for an old pencil that sits on the window sill, scribbling ‘Ellie’ on a piece of nearby scratch paper and leaving it next to the plate. A deal is a deal, after all. 

“Don’t leave me hangin’, now,” Joel calls out to you from the living room. You turn around and he’s waving his hand, nagging you about his abandoned high five. 

You flip him off. Asshole. 

[rillils]

idk why I never thought about it, but if we're assuming that this

is the brochure Bucky got at the Smithsonian in 2014, that must mean that he held on to it for two whole years. possibly carrying it in his pocket at first (you can sort of see the marks where it was originally folded), then carefully straightening it and smoothing out the inevitable little crinkles, with a tenderness he'd long forgotten he was even capable of.

moving it from journal to journal as he went through them, so he wouldn't risk losing it.

using it as a bookmark, so it would be the first thing he saw every time he flipped his journal open.

maybe tracing Steve's familiar face with his fingertips, with the odd but unfaltering certainty that he used to know what that felt like. that the memory must be somewhere in the back of his mind still, waiting to be unlocked like a treasure chest.

recalling how, during the war, he'd wished he could have carried a picture of his sweetheart on him like all the other guys did. how he'd wished he could see Steve's face every day, just for something good to hold on to, to keep him going when he felt every last shred of hope slip away from him.

and how, when Steve appeared with his new body and his old recklessness, all too eager to throw himself into battle, Bucky had learned what people meant when they said be careful what you wish for.

just. the notion of Bucky taking this fragile piece of paper in the first place, and then deciding to keep it, and then going out of his way to make sure it wouldn't tear, deliberately keeping it close at hand, cherishing it like it was his most prized possession– yeah no I need a moment

[dotster001]

When You Escape Him; Octavinelle

Summary: Yandere Octavinelle boys x gn!reader. He adopts a child that looks like the two of you. You run to give you both a chance at life. You never expected him to find you.

CW: yandere, dark content, murder, threats against reader, drugging, injury to reader, mafia shit, this one feels darker, so read at your own risk, Azul's part is the tamest, so take that as you will

A/N: As promised, I'm going to be doing this one regularly. Hopefully gonna get these out on Sundays.

Heartslaybul Savannahclaw Scarabia Pomefiore Ignihyde Diasomnia Non NRC Staff

Three years into your relationship, he had come home and placed a baby in your arms.

"They were left in a box, all alone. And, well, he looks like if the two of us had a child," he sheepishly stared at the ground. "I just, I just figured it must be a gift from the seven."

You knew what he was trying to do. He was trying to tie himself to you through this boy. He looked just like him, and you were disgusted and scared.

Until he opened his eyes for the first time, and you found yourself staring into your own.

And you knew. You had to give this child the opportunity for a better life. A life without him.

In the end, your son did the opposite of what he had intended. And the first moment you could, the two of you had escaped.

You were lucky. In so many ways. Every single day you were grateful. Grateful that you been at your winter home, which was on land. Grateful that the child he'd found had been human. Grateful that the twins had had to go home early for “family business”.

You would never have had your window otherwise.

And seven years later, you were still grateful. Particularly to the Sunset Savannah, for quietly taking you and your son in as citizens, and legally changing your names, all under the table. 

Your son was starting first grade tomorrow, so you'd spent the day shopping for supplies, eating treats that you'd splurged on to celebrate, chatting about dreams for the future. 

The sun had gone down, and you'd shifted a bag to your hip to unlock the door, only for the door to slowly creak open. You pushed your son behind you, peeking into your darkened apartment. You quickly noticed the absolute wreckage inside, the windows broken, tables flipped, tv smashed, pillows torn; anything that could be broken, was broken.

You turned to your son, pressing a finger to your lips. He looked scared, but nodded. You grabbed his hand, and tip toed towards the stairwell. You made it down one flight of stairs before you saw twin shadows. You had the advantage of seeing them first, so you turned and tiptoed your way to the roof, hastily typing a message to Emergency L. You said a silent prayer as you pushed the door open, immediately hearing cackling as they bounded up the stairs behind you.

If you could just block the door until help arrived…

But the roof was swarmed with large men in black suits. You never stood a chance.

After an uncomfortable ride in a limo with the Leech twins, who were trying really hard to get your son to call them “Uncle”, followed by an underwater breathing potion shoved down your throat (your son's was mixed in a smoothie), and an even more uncomfortable escort back to Azul’s undersea branch of the Monstro Lounge, you found yourself in a very familiar situation. It'd been a while since you'd been in this chair in the VIP room. Last time, you'd traded your life away, believing Azul would find a way home for you. You really should have read the fine print…

“Mister?” Your son tugged on Floyd's sleeve.

Floyd grinned. “That's not my name.”

“U-uncle Floyd?” Floyd nodded happily. “Can I have a glass of water?”

“Daddy will be here in a sec. He'll get you some water.”

Floyd seemed happy to entertain your son, meanwhile Jade quietly snickered from the spot next to you where he was ensuring you stayed seated.

The door slammed open, and you didn't dare turn to look.

“WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME?” Azul boomed, and you heard your son release a squeak in fear.

“You were very busy with work. We didn't want to disturb you,” Jade said, the smile clear in his voice.

A tentacle wrapped around your stomach as Azul made his way to his desk.

“I should fire both of you for your impertinence.”

“Ah, but then we'd have to take Shrimpy and baby tako with us,” Floyd guffawed.

“Don't even joke about that,” Azul spat, finally in a place where you couldn't avoid looking at him. He looked exactly the same as you remembered, just with more bags under his eyes. The tentacle wrapped around your middle tightened as he stared at you, then he looked at your son, another tentacle moving to smooth the boy's hair. He flinched, but you'd long since learned that sometimes Azul's tentacles had a mind of their own; they continued petting his head.

“How would you like to stay with your Grandma for a while?” He finally asked.

“Grandma?” 

“Yes. Your parents have to work some things out. So Uncle Floyd and Uncle Jade are going to take you to stay with Grandma.”

“My grandma is from a different world…”

“You have another Grandma,” Azul smiled wickedly. “You see,” the tentacle turned his head to face you, “someone has been lying to you. I'm your father. And they stole you from me, because they are a selfish, mean, person.”

You moved to stand, but the tentacle, and Jade's grip, both became crushing, and you froze in place. Your son's eyes flickered with doubt, but saying something now would give you a black eye and a traumatized son.

“I'm your father,” Azul smiled softly, moving closer and gently taking his hands. That's the smile that made you sign your contract.

“We'll see you soon. And then we'll be a proper family. Okay?”

The boy nodded and was quickly walked out by Jade and Floyd. Azul moved behind his desk, as though he had not a care in the world. He pulled out a familiar piece of glowing paper, and looked at it, before looking at you in mock disapproval.

“It seems you are in extreme violation of your contract, Y/N Ashengrotto.”

The only way you could have ever made it to the surface, was with help. Going to Jade was a long shot. But he'd grinned. It sounded entertaining to him, watching Floyd hunt you down. It would provide a couple hours of fun for him. 

What Jade hadn't anticipated was how long you'd spent preparing for this opportunity. 

And now it had been six years since you'd escaped the clutches of the ocean. Your son was coloring in the living space while you cooked. 

The door splintered into a million pieces with a loud bang. And there he was. His eyes as cold as the day you'd first met him, when you'd watched him fight off a crowd of angry contracted students.

Your son looked up, instantly crying in total fear.  You wrapped your arms around him, shielding him from your angry ex husband. Or at least you tried to. But, just like the man he resembled, he was a tall boy. It was hard to hide your gentle giant. 

“Hey squirt,” Floyd said, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. He leaned in, his face inches from your son's face, scanning him, seeing the traces of himself in the boy. “How bout you come with me?”

“I-” he looked up at you, then back at Floyd. “I don't wanna.”

Floyd's eyes narrowed. He stood back up, grabbing you by the jaw, with a growl.

“Bet ya think you're real funny, doncha Shrimpy? Turning my family against me? Ya did it with Jade too. Thing is,” he scowled, biting his lip before continuing, “if I kill the kid, I know I'll never get you back again.”

Your breath caught in your throat. 

“Jade,” you breathed, but Floyd threw you to the ground.

“Don't you dare say his name!” He screamed, moving to grab you again, but your son stood in his way.

“You don't get to talk about him! You killed my brother!” He screamed, trying to bob and weave around the boy. Finally he pulled out his pen, whispering a spell, and your son collapsed.

“No!” You screamed, crawling over to him, but Floyd blasted you back against the wall.

“He's fine. Just sleeping til we get home,” he said, irritation at having to even explain it clear in his voice.

He stalked over to you, and you tried to scoot back, but winced. You were pretty sure you had broken something.

He shoved you back, then hovered over your body, pinning your hands above your head. He nuzzled into your neck, his teeth grazing your jugular.

“If I ripped your throat out, you couldn't leave me again.”

“Please don't,” you breathed out, tears trickling from the corners of your eyes.

“No promises,” he said, the smile returning to his voice. “We'll see how well you behave.”

You'd found a spy among the ranks of Jade's men. As much as you believed that Jade probably already knew, you'd used the poor soul’s situation to your advantage. You wouldn't tell “Papa Leech” about him, if he got his boss to get you and your son an escape. You pointed out how if you escaped, and stayed hidden, Jade would essentially be out of the picture, forever weakening the Leech family.

It took lots of negotiation, and some 4d chess on your part to out maneuver the near genius that was Jade, but eventually, you were set up in a small home in the sea just off the coast of  the kingdom of heroes. 

They'd even started prepping for when your son was old enough to start safely taking human transformation potions. A moray eel mer stood out no matter where he lived, so the sooner they could set you up on land, the better. 

That spy had left that job, and was now your regular contact when they were passing along information. You were scheduled to meet him today. He'd told you to bring your son. You hoped this meant you were finally going to discuss leaving the ocean. You'd dressed up your boy, putting a wig on him to hide the very Leech-ish hair he was unfortunate enough to be sporting. A pair of sunglasses on both of you, and you were ready. 

You arrived at the fancy restaurant, giving the host the fake name that you used for your contact. He directed you to a room in the back, telling you to lock the door behind you.

You opened the door in the back, gently ushering your son in as you turned to lock the door. You turned back, and smiled at your contact, sitting down next to your son, in the seat across from him. 

Then your contact fell out of his chair.

“Aw, too bad,” you heard an upsettingly familiar voice say from the dark corner of the room.

You grabbed your son's arm, preparing to swim away, but it took less than a beat for Jade to torpedo through the water, and grab you, throwing you over his shoulder. 

“No!” Your son cried, banging his fists against Jade.

Jade snickered, before calling out, “Floyd. Enough hiding. Time to play with your beloved nephew.”

Floyd swam out from under the table, sighing heavily. 

“If I have to. Just make sure you actually get Shrimpy on the right path this time, or Pops is gonna lose it.”

Your son was snatched around the middle, then dragged out of the room, your anguished cries doing nothing. Jade swam back to the seat your now dead contact was sitting in, slamming you down into it, binding you with a spell. 

“Hello, my love. How was your vacation?” He asked with a close eyed smile.

You struggled against the binds, and he sighed in mock disappointment.

“Oh dear, I thought you'd be happy to see me.”

He wiped away an invisible tear. Then he reached over to the plate on the table. 

“Jade, please. Where are you taking my son?” You pleaded.

He raised a brow, his face the very image of innocence, as he rolled his fork in the pasta on the plate.

“You mean, my son?” He asked. “He's going somewhere safe.”

“Jade, promise me you won't hurt him-”

“I would never! Do you think I'm a cruel beast?”

You didn't feel safe answering that question.

“While you were gone, I did some thinking. I was asking a lot of you. You're just a weak magicless human in a very scary environment. On top of that, I wanted you to be a parent, and a perfect spouse. You need some help.”

He grinned. “So I did some experimenting. Open wide!” He pressed the fork to your mouth, but you kept your lips sealed tight. “Don't worry, my pearl, you won't feel a thing.”

You had no doubt of that. Whatever was in that food wouldn't hurt you, not in a way you would feel. But whatever it did do would be far worse. You just knew it, especially after all this time he had to think about  just how to make you behave.

“Do you ever wish to see your son again?”

You slowly nodded, your throat closing up.

“Do you want your son's grandfather to be put in charge of your discipline?”

You shook your head, and Jade's smile widened as he pressed the fork back to your lips. This time, you slowly opened your mouth and took a bite of the pasta. It tasted good, at least. That was your last thought as the world around you morphed and warped, the only thing you could truly focus on was a sharp toothed smile.

[apocalypseornaw]

Us Again

Sam Winchester x Reader

Needing help on a case you're forced to call in the Winchesters. You never thought it'd end with you and Sam finding your way back together.

It's like 90% smut

The solid wall connecting with your back knocked every ounce of breath from your lungs. You groaned and rolled onto your hands and knees, struggling to get air. You heard Sam and Dean both shout your name and saw the creature moving towards you. You grabbed your discarded machete and pushed yourself to your feet, eyes on the monster you yelled “GET THE KIDS. I GOT THIS”

This thing was something new, none of you had run across it which was why you'd called the Winchesters in to begin with. It was taking kids, feeding off their youth. You were hoping decapitation would do the trick. You flipped the long blade in your hand and waved a hand at it “C'mon then ugly. I don't got all night”

 

You winced a bit as you followed Dean into the door of their hotel room. Yours was adjoining and you'd left the door unlocked between your rooms. Dean eyed you as he dug a first aid kit out considering he'd gotten a slice across the arm and Sam had gotten caught across his left shoulder.

“How ya feeling?” He asked and you nodded “Right as rain Winchester. Now sit down and let me see about that arm” you glanced back at Sam “and I need to check your shoulder too” Sam gave a sharp nod, lowering himself into a chair at the table opposite Dean. 

—-----------------

You hadn't wanted to call them in, years had passed since you hunted with them. The last time had been about a year after you and Sam broke up. You could feel his gaze on your back as you began cleaning the wound on Dean's arm. It wasn't too awfully deep but it might do for a stitch or two just to make sure it stayed closed. 

You busied yourself with the task at hand in an attempt to ignore the memories flashing through your mind. You still loved Sam just as much as the day you'd left but you couldn't tell him that. Too much time and too much pain had passed. The two of you had only recently gotten back to the point of talking as friends. You couldn't risk losing him again or Dean for that matter because regardless of how close you were with the eldest Winchester he'd choose his brother every time.

You finished Dean's stitches and taped over it so he could shower then stepped back from him “All done” he nodded, his eyes flickering between you and Sam. The question was clear in his eyes so you gave him a small nod before turning to face Sam “Ok, um you're gonna have to take your shirt off for me to check that shoulder” 

He met your eyes for a second then cleared his throat and looked away before standing to take off his flannel then slipped his shirt over his head. It had been a while since you saw Sam shirtless and christ he'd put on more muscle than before not that he was lacking then. You had to mentally kick yourself to not stare at his chest. 

He sat back down, turning the chair so you could get to his shoulder. You cut your eyes at Dean and he was watching the two of you with something near amusement written across his face. Damn him shouldn't he be playing the protective brother at least? You and Sam had broken each other's hearts at one time. 

—---------

You gingerly touched the area of Sam's shoulder that was sliced. It was deeper than Dean's but should only take a couple stitches. “Just sit still, I need to clean it” you nearly whispered before grabbing the wound cleaner. 

Sam sat silently as you cleaned his cut. The feeling of your hands on his skin was nearly overwhelming. He was glad Dean had stayed in the room because this entire hunt had been hell on his psyche, from the moment you called for help he knew it would be. The kids you all hadn't been able to save, the new creature that needed to be added to the lore, the way he felt seeing you get tossed to how he now felt with you bandaging him up like old times except now you wouldn't kiss the area after bandaging it.

“You ok?” You asked once you started stitching him. He nodded “Yeah, I'm good” he felt when you snipped off the thread and taped over it like you had Dean's. The fingers of your right hand lightly teased through the hair at the nape of his neck and he sucked in a harsh breath at the familiarity that wracked through him. Fuck he missed you.

—----------

You weren't sure what had driven you to run your fingers through Sam's hair but it was almost as if your body had run on muscle memory alone. You'd heard the way his breath caught and your knees had weakened. You needed to get a shower and go to bed so you could hit the road bright and early.

“You can um put your shirt back on if you want” you spoke then began packing up the first aid kit. Before you could finish Dean's hands covered yours “Uh uh sweetheart. You took a hard hit one of us needs to check you over” you met his eyes and saw the unspoken challenge there. 

Either you put you and Dean both in an awkward position by having to take your shirt off in front of him or you ask Sam to check you. “I'm fine Dean” he raised an eyebrow then leaned up to speak around you “Sammy why don't you go in her room with her and check her back out. If something seems broke holler for me but I think it's better you do it since you have seen her naked after all” 

“You're as subtle as a heart attack” you mumbled then looked back at Sam who seemed determined to look anywhere but at you “I'm fine Sam really” he finally raised his eyes to you “Are you afraid your boyfriend may find out?” 

You felt your face warm at his words. You and Marcel had broken up nearly a year ago. You hadn't loved him, hell you hadn't loved anyone since Sam. Marcel and you were still friends even if when the two of you broke up his reasoning had been “Baby you never got your heart back from Sam. I can't compete”

“I haven't had a boyfriend in a very long time, Sam. You want to check me out and confirm what I already know, come on then” you grabbed the first aid kit and turned on your heel. Before you made it into your room Sam was catching the door.

—---------

“Go!” Dean urged Sam, who nearly jumped out of the chair, to follow you. You were single? Why had you broken up with Marcel? You'd seemed happy with him.

He followed you into your room and watched you slam the first aid kit down on the table then start to strip your jacket off. He shut the door behind himself then was acutely aware of your actions when you slipped your shirt over your head and stood facing him clothed in just your jeans and a dark green sports bra. It took everything he had to not let his eyes graze over your body. 

“Sam? Are you gonna touch me or stare?” You asked after a moment and he knew he had blushed lightly. He hadn't touched your skin in a very very long time and wanted nothing more than to but the thought of touching you only to see if you were hurt then the two of you going separate ways come morning hurt. 

“Yeah, sorry” he said and you turned with your back to him, moving your hair out the way. Purple bruises had formed across your back already so he started at the nape of your neck with intentions to work down, checking everything.

—-----------------

Sam's rough fingertips started at the nape of your neck. His thumbs worked the base of your neck, feeling for any cracks and effectively massaging the sore muscles there. Your eyes fluttered shut and you bit down on the inside of your cheek to not moan.

Damn him he knew your body so well even after this long. He worked down further, kneading the flesh and checking across your ribs and spine to ensure nothing was broken, asking every now and then if anything hurt.

When he reached the top of your jeans he tapped your hip “Everything looks good” you swallowed hard twice before turning to face him “Told ya” 

His eyes went from your face down to your chest and the realization you were still in just your bra hit you “Guess on that note I'm gonna shower” he nodded “Ok” neither of you moved, frozen to the spot.

—----------------

“Sam” you spoke his name in nearly a whisper and the next moment your lips were crashing against his. You were sure who initiated it but his hands went to your hips pulling you flush against him as your hands slipped around his neck pulling him down closer to you. 

When you broke away to catch your breath the two of you stared at each other, chests heaving “Tell me you don't want this. Tell me to walk away” his voice was deep with lust and made your stomach do a flip “No” you replied pulling him back to you.

He groaned into the kiss before picking you up in one fluid motion. His hands hooked under your thighs so you wrapped your legs around his waist grinding down against him. He carried you over to the bed and laid you down gently before slipping his shirt back over his head and tossing it.

You worked to kick your boots off as he did the same. Once you were both down to jeans he climbed onto the bed hovering over you as he claimed your lips in a bruising kiss. You barely remembered his injured shoulder as you clung to him, wanting him as close as possible.  You loved this man with everything you had, you'd left because he couldn't say he loved you and it hurt too much but being away from him for so long had hurt too so you decided to give yourself this.

He moved from your lips, kissing down your jaw then to your neck when he sucked on your pulse point hard enough to mark you your back arched off the bed pressing your breasts into his toned chest. His hand touched your bra and he glanced up at you for permission. You smiled and pulled it up and over your head, baring your chest to him. 

He lowered his mouth to your left breast, rolling the nipple between his teeth and you moaned loudly. His right hand came up to knead the other breast, the action pulling another moan from you.  He knew you too well. His mouth, the size of his hands, the tickle of his hair against your skin. Everything had your nerves in overdrive. 

He released your breast then kissed down your stomach, stopping at the top of your jeans. “Tell me you want me” He spoke against your skin, eyes holding yours. “I want you” you whispered and his eyes shut for a moment and you saw him swallow hard before he nodded to himself. When his eyes opened there was that same hunger there but mixed with a need you felt in your soul. 

He made quick work of your jeans and panties before continuing his path. When his tongue barely grazed your clit your fingers flew to his hair tangling themselves in it. 

—---------------

Sam wasn't sure what was sweeter, your taste or the sounds falling from your lips. He knew what it took to push you over that edge and enjoyed feeling your body shake and you came on his tongue. He worked you through it until you pushed his head away. He leaned back from you, slipping a finger into you to replace his tongue. You clenched hard around his fingers, cursing lightly when he added a second and curled them up to hit that spot inside of you that he knew would have you seeing stars.

Your hands gripped the sheets tightly, the sound of his name being moaned from you was everything. He could feel when you were close right before you came, soaking his fingers and the bed under you. When he pulled his fingers out he held your gaze and he slipped them into his mouth, licking them clean.

“Sam, take your fucking jeans off please” you begged and he could feel his cock twitch at your words. He stood up and slipped his jeans and boxers off. Your eyes trailed down his body and he saw you lick your lips “I want to return the favor but fuck I need you inside me”

—---------- 

He groaned at your words “I need to be inside you” he replied climbing back up your body. When he reached your lips you pulled him into a kiss, rolling your tongue against his, tasting yourself on him. When you felt the head of his cock teasing at your entrance you clenched. He eased into you, both of you moaning at the sensation “Fuck you're so damn big Sam”

He buried his face in the bend of your neck, laughing lightly against your skin “I'd say sorry but I'm not” after a moment the pain of the stretch gave way to pleasure. You rolled your hips up to meet his and he groaned “Fuck baby” you smiled when he looked up at your face “I've missed hearing you call me that” he grinned before leaving a rough kiss on your lips “Hold onto me baby. I want to feel that pretty little pussy come around me” 

—-------------

The only sounds in the room were skin meeting skin and both of your needy moans. Your nails dug into his forearms as he drove into you from behind. You were on your stomach, pillows under your hips to give him just the right angle as he drove into you. He'd already made you come too many times to count. You were breathless and could feel your body shaking but you were taking everything he had to give. 

His thrusts were starting to falter and you knew he was close. Sam had always had a remarkable stamina and the ability to hold his own release in favor of pleasuring his partner but you needed to feel him come, to have him fill you completely. “fuck Sam. Please tell me you're close” you sounded wrecked, completely fucked out. 

He moved the hair from your neck, kissing your pulse point “getting tired baby?” You nodded “I need to feel you please” he groaned at your words his thrusts getting harder and harder “Fuck I've missed you…I love you baby fuck I love you”

Before you had time to realize what he said he buried himself deep inside of you, coating your walls as he came. The feeling pushed you over that edge one last time. You knew every muscle in your lower body would be jello. When he pulled out you gasped from the sudden feeling of emptiness. 

He kissed your shoulder “Gonna clean you up” you felt the bed dip as he stood up. A moment later he was back and you felt a warm washcloth between your legs. Once he was sure you were cleaned he discarded the rag and helped you turn onto your side. 

He laid down next to you, pulling you over on his chest “Need anything?” He asked and you shook your head sleepily. “Just sleep” he chuckled and kissed your forehead “Get some sleep darling. I'm right here” 

The first thing you felt when you woke was the delicious soreness throughout your body. Christ, you'd forgotten Sam's stamina. You moved around but felt a strong arm tighten around you. Memories of the previous night flooded your mind. Had Sam meant it when he told you he loved you? 

As if your thoughts got too loud he stirred behind you so you turned in his arms to face him. The uncertainty on his face seemed out of place after how he'd fucked you the night before “Why'd you leave me?” He asked and you sighed “I thought you didn't love me. You would never tell me you did and after a while that wears on you”

He closed his eyes for a moment and when he opened them the sadness hurt your heart “I've always loved you just after Jess I was just so afraid to lose someone again” “I never wanted to force you into anything” he nodded then smiled “I meant it last night. I love you, I've always loved you and always will. If you give this a second chance I promise you'll never doubt my feelings again. You're it for me. My heart is solely yours” 

You were silent for a moment then smiled “on one condition” he nodded “anything” “You always talk to me about what's going on in your head, you trust that I can take care of myself and if I get hurt you try not to blame yourself”  “Deal” you nodded “In that case kiss me” “Yes ma'am” he laughed before pulling you into a kiss.

[zoropookie]

SWEET MELODY

☆ chapter eight — i don't care abt the homeless 🎂

You unlocked the key to your home after returning that night, presence in the air riddled with the absence of your brother.

The door creaked open, being greeted by the familiar scent of old books and a hint of maple in the air, meeting with the faint trace of the cinnamon scented candle you keep buying just because he did.

The silence was oppressing you, especially with how rough the reception was for you. You took slow steps through the corridor, your steps echoing slowly on the floorboards, creaking at every turn. Rancor poured into your eyes like a glass, the main room of the home left exactly how it was for years.

Every article of clothing on the floor, every knickknack and miscellaneous object wasn't moved. You hardly found the strength to go in there yourself, knowing that you wanted it to be a snapshot in time. The blanket you both snuggled into was laying there on the floor, in a halfhearted attempt beforehand to be folded neatly by your brother.

You sighed deeply after taking it in again, feeling your shoulders wrack in defeat, the tears pooling relentlessly. Enveloped in grief, you took a sharp breath in and shook your head, immediately heading towards your room to find the letter.

You panicked to find the letter again, going through every box and every single faded out picture that you could find. Nothing ever worked as well as it did with that letter, a flicker of warmth crashing on your body as anxiety made it's way to your lungs, forcing you to manually breathe.

"Where... where??" You murmured to yourself, almost in whimpers.

In haste, you pulled open drawers, scattered old postcards, flipped through dusty photo albums, taking in a lot of things that just made your heart ache more, but you couldn't stop looking for it. You needed that letter, the only thing you knew could momentarily connect to his thoughts.

Your breathing grew more labored once you trashed your entire floor with the past, each inhalation feeling like a struggle against you. Like there was 8 tons pressing down on your chest, the tears ruthlessly burning against the ducts of your eyes. "Where is it...?" You sobbed out, voice cracking with desperation.

You fell asleep that night, failing to soothe the raw edges of your pain. You were now left with both the painful night you've been through, and a lack of drive for your own profession. You couldn't say which one of those were benefitting you.

It was time for Mona to go herself, if your employees weren't going to bring it up.

She learned a long time ago that if anything was going to be done on her terms, she was going to have it do it herself. The bitter thought of your employees betraying you like this in terms of a business proposal is tragic to her.

She gazed whimsically at the cute setup that the bakery had been decorated with — fairy lights to wrap neatly around the hedge bush for the strays that were left on the floor after taking care of the surrounding foliage. Their soft glow accompanied with the first light of dawn.

Mona sat there in her car with newfound resolve, getting out after taking procedure to hide her face. She opened the doors to the bakery, the golden lights of the early morning sun streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting long and wide shadows across every seating.

As she noticed two of the workers bustling behind the counter talking about something she had no knowledge about, one of them was arranging a tray of freshly baked cinnamon rolls. The other was decorating a cake.

One of them, with beaming golden eyes, looked up at Mona as he wiped his hands on his apron. "Can I help you?"

She immediately cleared her throat, offering a gentle smile as she candidly lowered the mask below her lips to hover forward. "If you could tell me where (Y/N) (L/N) is, that would be lovely."

At first, the two seemed ready to comply. Until the one with the lighter blue hair raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms to his chest skeptically. "What do you need them for?" He asked, his tone cautious.

Her smile didn't waver. "I have an oncoming appointment with them that hasn't yet been finalized. I figure I come here myself and make sure everything's taken care of. Oh," She looked in between the two, holding a hand out, "I'm sorry for not introducing myself. Mona."

Suddenly, the golden-eyed worker's eyes squinted as if he knew who she was. He was quiet, inspecting her with little intention on pressing her further. "Like from the girl group?"

After a confirming nod from her, he hummed and nodded himself slowly. "Get me an autograph from Xiangling, and I'll tell you government secrets too."

"Deal."

The other's eyes narrowed. "You're such a sellout, Gaming. They're... just prepping banana bread right now."

Gaming's expression softened up, and he nodded. It looked like there were almost hearts in his eyes, easily swayed by yet another temptress. "Sorry for the precaution, Miss Mona~ We'll get our boss right away."

As he left to go fetch you, the other smiled apologetically at Mona. "Sorry...we have to be careful now. Last time we went to go get them for a customer, they started throwing things in their face and shouting for a refund. I told that guy not to get the peanut brittle because of his peanut allergy."

"No worries." She nodded, a small chuckle coming from her lips. "I understand, you guys do great work it seems."

Moments later, you came out from the kitchen, curiosity striking you as you made eye contact with the soon to be client. "What's going on?" You asked softly, eyebrows furrowing. "Were the cupcakes too dense yesterday? I knew they were a little off, but I sold them anyway...I'm so sorry—"

"No!" Mona shot her hands up, "No, no. It's not that. I have some business to do with you. I wanted to come here to discuss it with you, since that's one of the only ways I can get ahold of you directly."

"Oh..." You perked up again, smiling. "Of course...follow me!"

previous ☆ masterlist ☆ next

THERE ARE not many things that can sway your interest ever since the "incident", but in spite of that, you pushed forward. you are now the owner of the biggest bakery chain in your city, consistently seeing couples and catering to them as such. you've been a big host at weddings, events for celebrities, and even a big support for your friends and family. you've even earned yourself a niche following as well by how sweet you are to everybody around you. but, even with your kindness, you don't have a particular spark that keeps you going anymore these days. that is until one of your employees starts suggesting you write love letters to customers who request your services. at first you thought it was a horrible idea that could easily turn into trouble, but that was until you were tasked with writing one to your own (very very famous) ex-boyfriend.

taglist ☆ — @seternic @chemiru @coquettemaiden @1kio0o @emiixuu

@agaygothicmushroom @yomishen @jingyuan-wife-real @toruscorpse @whoooismkeee

@sketcheeee @st4r4ngel @xionri @scaradooche @lightyagamifan

@pwushizz @alatusorrow @eutopiastar @magica-ren @slu7

@vaxmpi @theyluvkatt @kyon-cherri @suzydarling @mimi3lover

@auroratumbles @vxcmx @yourfavoritefreakyhan @kunimylovee

@czerwka @little-honey-the-third @featuredtofu @simonisferal @justpeachyteastea

@liuaneee @skyoverkill1 @mellowberrie @lalalaloveallmydays @mostlymoth

@mtndewbajablasted @vernith @lovekeychains @danhenglovebot @elizshade

@balladeersflower @kazumiku @bananasquash @neversore @yevurin

@franaby @vicslz @kamiboo @thegalaxyisunfolding @morgyyyyyyy

@feikyuu @tamikahoshiko @kissingkzuha @bbysatoruuu @rvoulte

@kinvasions @kukikoooo @adriannauodi @pumpkincitrus

[system-to-the-madness]

Nothing Extraordinary - Dazai Osamu x Reader

Pairing: Dazai Osamu x Reader (can be read as any gender, no pronouns used) Genre: (angst to) fluff Word Count: 2 360 Warnings: use of (y/n), mentions of dying (nobody dies tho), Reader is scared Dazai doesn't love them Summary: Even after a year of dating there are three words Dazai and you have yet to exchange A/N: Happy Birthday to Dazai, even though his birthday is already over in Japan...

A soft exhale brushed over your slightly parted lips as you pressed “send” on the file you had spent the past three hours preparing. A look at the clock on your desktop screen told you, you it was only half past three, but the sun shining in through the windows of the Armed Detective Agency had already a strong orange tint.

Absentmindedly your gaze wandered over to your boyfriend’s desk, finding it empty. You wondered what kind of unimportant task Osamu had found this time to get around doing his paperwork.

Confused you tilted your head.

Taking a closer look at his desk that bordered yours, it seemed like the files Kunikida had piled on it this morning had already been moved to the “outgoing” folder, which meant he had at least made the effort to shift them around at one point. But had he actually done them?

Reaching over to his desk, you grabbed a bunch of the files out of the box, flipping them open. Indeed, they had all been processed neatly, in Osamu’s handwriting. What was wrong with him? Usually he only did them when Kunikida stood next to him, threatening him with exposing some kind of embarrassing secret of his to you.

The first time Kunikida had used that threat, Osamu had thought he had been bluffing, and thus you had learnt of the time Osamu had been ‘stuck’ in a restaurant’s bathroom for an hour straight because the clearly labelled door would have opened through pulling, not pushing. Of course you had thought Kunukida had made that up, after all, someone as clever and cunning as Osamu would never- but a glance at your then-boyfriend-of-three-weeks had revealed just how true Kunikida’s story was, the red flare of his cheeks having glowed under the cool blue light of the office’s illumination.

Ever since then Osamu knew to take Kunikida’s threats seriously. But since the blonde skill-user had not spent the better part of the day standing next to Osamu, supervising his work, you couldn’t help but wonder if your boyfriend had unlocked a new skill that allowed him to finish his paperwork within the blink of an eye.

Or maybe he was sick? No, if he were, he’d have clung to you the whole time, whining about how miserably he was feeling. Sometimes he really behaved like a huge child. Why did you put up with him again?

Because I love him. 

Yeah, only that you had never told him that. You had been dating for almost a year now, and Osamu had as good as moved in with you, but you had never told him you loved him, nor had he told you he loved you.

Of course, you made sure to express your feelings in action and a few times it almost would’ve slipped over your lips in moments when you were distracted or tired, causing you half a heart attack each time you caught your tongue in time. And as hard as it was sometimes to decipher his behaviour, you were fairly certain Osamu was at least somewhat emotionally attached to you.

But there was always this fear.

This fear that he’d pull away the moment you expressed how serious and deep your affection for him had grown. This fear that he’d take it as the sign to draw back and drop you like he dropped all these girls he had been meeting with before the two of you had almost died in each other’s arms during a mission, before he had pulled you into his chest and kissed you as if it were the last thing he would ever do before both of you suddenly had the same idea which had ended up saving your lives, before he had asked if saving each other’s lives qualified him for a date with you. As if you had been out of his league before that, when really he was the one who could barely save himself from suitors who were attracted by his intellect, his charm and of course also his good looks.

Tearing your thoughts back into the moment, you shook your head and took a deep breath, focusing back on the screen before you displaying the confirmation that your file had successfully been delivered.

Another glance at the clock. 15:35pm. You reached for the notepad besides your screen and ticked off the report you had sent just two minutes earlier. The next point on the list was… annoying. Not difficult or hard, just annoying. With a small sigh you went back to work.

Your eyes were trained on the screen, following the signs that appeared while your fingers were flying over keyboard, focusing on the words you strung together. You barely noticed the hand that carefully placed a plate with grapes and strawberries next to your keyboard, white bandages covering the skin from right underneath the thumb until they disappeared into the lazily rolled up sleeves of a dress shirt. A moment later the hand disappeared and a second, equally bandaged hand placed a cup of freshly brewed green tea next to the plate.

This time you noticed the movement from the corner of your eyes, glancing at the already retreating hand, unable and unwilling to hide the smile tucking at your lips. It didn’t happen often, but occasionally Osamu would bring you snacks while you were working. It were little things like these, the little efforts he made, every day, small things that accumulated over time which made your heart beat hard in your chest whenever you thought of him.

“Thank you, Osamu. I love you.”

The moment the last syllable had left your lips, you realized what you had just said, and froze up. There were reasons why you had never told him. You knew he struggled with forming permanent, close relationships, with opening himself up to others. If you came across as too eager, too clingy, too pushy,… he’d leave faster than you could blink.

All you could hope for now was that he hadn’t heard you, so you quickly continued typing, having barely missed a beat in your rhythm. Exhaling slowly, you relaxed your shoulders.

He hadn’t said anything, so he probably had snuck away and not heard your confession, otherwise he certainly would have snickered, or teased you. Only for you to come home to an apartment later that had been cleared of all his things. No, he hadn’t heard you. Most certainly not.

You had already typed another full line before a sudden voice right next to you startled you into interrupting your work once again, this time making you whip your head around to look at the man standing next to your desk.

“I love you, too.”

Osamu’s voice had been quiet, his eyes not fixed on you but instead a drawer of your desk, before he looked up almost hesitantly. There was something shimmering in his eyes which not even you, as his girlfriend of a year got to see often; a vulnerability and hesitancy, as if he wasn’t certain he had just trusted someone with a secret they would mock him for. You could never help but feel unsettled when this shimmer glossed over his eyes: Dazai Osamu wasn’t the kind of person to fear being mocked. Not by anyone. Not by anyone but you.

It took a moment for his words to register in your brain, until you had processed them, and you couldn’t help the way your eyes widened at the realization of his words.

“Osamu that’s- that’s not what I meant,” you quickly denied, before noticing how it had to sound to him. “I mean, I didn’t mean to pressure you into saying it back! I don’t want you to say things like that just because you feel obliged to-”

The soft smile that begun spreading over Osamu’s face irritated you enough to forget what you had meant to say.

Slowly he crouched down, placing his hand on the armrest of your chair and turned it enough to make you face him. Biting your lower lip, you watched him scan over your face, his hand subconsciously moving from the armrest to your knee. Warmth sept through the thin fabric of your fabric trousers, the elegantly cut kind Kunikida had advised you to wear when you had first started working for the Armed Detective Agency.

“It’s true though,” Osamu said, his voice so quiet that you’d be surprised if anyone but you could hear it right now. “I do. I’ve known for a while now. It’s not that kind of fleeting feeling of a crush, even though I wanted it to be only that. But the more I began to deny it, the more I realized that you have carved yourself into my heart and now it carries your name. Admitting it is scary though. What if you don’t feel the same?” He brought one of his hands up to your face, the backs of his fingers ghosting over your cheek, warm and familiarly gentle. “What if I allow myself to love you, and you leave, or get taken from me? To love you means to offer myself to the possibility of hurt and I don’t want to be hurt anymore. But I want to love you. I do love you. With all I have.”

Orange afternoon light caught in Osamu’s whiskey-coloured eyes, igniting his long lashes in warm auburn. Single hairs threw fine shadows over his skin, and all of a sudden you once again realized how delicate his features were, how beautiful his face, how warm his gaze.

His words echoed in your head, tumbled over one another, until you couldn’t grasp a clear thought anymore, so instead you bent forwards and gently touched your lips against his. The hand he had still placed at your cheek came to cup your chin, but he didn’t pull you closer, just held you.

Kisses like this were rare. Osamu was always excited and full of passion, and so were his kisses. And the times he wasn’t, when the shadows in the corners of the rooms got too long and deep, threatening to swallow him whole, his lips moved desperately against yours, demanding you to offer him a lifeline, a way out, a distraction from old memories coming back to claim him and pull him back into the dark.

Now he let the kiss linger, your faces close enough for your lips to touch, for warmth to be exchanged, for him to feel your pulse beneath the delicate skin of your lips. But nothing more.

When you pulled away after several seconds, you saw Osamu’s eyes had fluttered closed, and remained closed for a moment longer. While he couldn’t see, you instinctively darted your tongue out, wetting your lips; they tasted of him. Even such a short kiss was enough for him to leave his mark on you like this.

“Thank you.”

His eyes were still closed when he spoke, making you tilt your head at him.

“For what?”

“For making saying these words for the first time something… so normal. Nothing extraordinary. Just intertwined into our everyday lives. It lessens the anxiety.”

“I was scared too, you know.” You didn’t elaborate on the reasons. He didn’t have to know you thought he might not love you. But he was Dazai Osamu, always ready with another surprise up his sleeves.

“I know, my angel. I know. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything earlier.”

“No, don’t be. It’s not your fault, nor mine. It just was. Just happened like this.”

“I like the way this happened.”

When he finally opened his eyes, they were gentle and warm, and the way he looked at you was nothing short of lovingly. Yes, lovingly. And this expression had been in his eyes for a while now, when he had looked at you, you just hadn’t been able to identify it. How long had it been there already? You were not sure. Most certainly not from the beginning on, when he had ignored you entirely for your first months at the agency. But it had been there for a long time, longer even than you had been dating. You knew you had seen it in his eyes, when he had lent in to desperately kiss you that time you had almost died together. You wondered if that had been the moment he had realized his feelings for you. One day you would ask him. But not now. Now you just wanted to know-

You had already opened your mouth to ask him if he wanted to take a small coffee break with you, when Kunikida’s booming voice interrupted you.

“Dazai! File OS0346 are missing the sketches I specifically asked for!”

Osamu, still crouching in front of you rolled his eyes, making you chuckle.

“Kunikidaaa,” he whined. “Can’t that wait until-”

“Of course it can wait,” Kunikida interrupted your whiny boyfriend. “But then I’ll tell (y/n) all about the time-”

“Nope, nope, no, I got it, I got it,” Osamu quickly jumped to his feet. “Already on my way. No reason to destroy my good image here.”

“Which good image,” Kunikida growled, throwing a file onto Osamu’s desk as he passed it.

You couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped your lips, earning a playfully scolding glance from your boyfriend, who slipped into his office chair, whining dramatically while doing so.

“Just so you know, Kunikidaaa, I’m signing out at exactly 5o’clock, and so will (y/n), and nobody will be able to contact us until tomorrow morning.”

Turning your chair back to face your desk, you glanced across the room, seeing Kunikida’s reddening face as he was staring daggers at Osamu. You chuckled again and tried focusing back on the report you were supposed to write.

Underneath the desk, something bumped against your foot and a moment later hooked around your ankle. Safe from Kunikida’s or anyone else’s eyes, Osamu had linked his feet around yours, shooting you a smile and a wink before both of you focused on your work again, the small contact at your feet a constant reminder that your lives were now inseparably intertwined.

[dambaepuff]

LIKE OR LIKE LIKE

☆Pairing: Roomate!Jeongguk x GN!Reader

☆Genre: Non!Idol AU, light angst, fluff, smut, one-shot

☆Warnings: swear words, Sub!JK, Dom!Reader, making out, hand job, fingering (m receiving)

☆Word count: 3k

☆Summary: After Jeongguk’s Valentines date bailed on him, he came home defeated and upset. In your attempt to comfort him things get heated.

☆A/N: I hope you’ll enjoy this valentines special!! This is my first time writing smut sooo I’m not sure how great it turned out. Once again, I do not have a beta reader and English isn’t my first language so I apologize if there’s any mistakes.

You sat down onto your couch with a huff, turning the TV on and flipping through the channels. Almost every single channel had a a romance movie playing, making you roll your eyes in annoyance. You turned on a streaming service, your irritation only growing when the front page recommended romance shows and movies. Jeongguk, your roommate and crush of three years was out on a date with some girl currently. You were never one to really care about Valentine’s Day, but knowing someone else was sneaking their way into his heart whilst you spent the evening home alone made you despise the holiday’s existence. Typing the title of a movie you’d been meaning to watch for ages now into the search bar, you turned it on and let yourself relaxed into the couch cushions. A couple of minutes in, you heard the door of your apartment unlock.

Craning your neck towards the sound you watched as Jeongguk walked in, the bouquet you had helped him pick out earlier that day loosely gripped in his hand. He sluggishly took off his shoes and jacked, dropping the assortment of flowers onto your kitchen counter. “How’d the date go?” You asked, looking up at him from your seat. “It didn’t go.” He answered in a flat tone. “What?” You scrunched up your eyebrows in confusion at his cryptic answer. “She didn’t show up. Only sent a text like half an hour after we were supposed to meet saying she forgot and made other plans.” He explained as he sat down next to you, looking defeated and tired. A deep frown formed on your lips, feeling sympathetic towards your roommate. You put a hand onto his shoulder, hoping to bring him some form of comfort. “Should we watch cheesy movies and order takeout? We can be alone and date-less together then.” You suggested, trying to cheer him up. “Yeah, I’d like that.” He sniffled lightly and fully let himself lean back into the couch. Now that his face was closer to yours you realized his eyes were glossy and red, his nose tinted a light pink as if he had been continuously wiping it. “Hey, you wanna talk about it?” You asked, your eyebrows being pulled together by worry. “Well, it’s not really like I wanted to go on that date with her so badly it’s just that,” he took in a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. “-it made me feel so… so shit. You know? Like I,” He pursed his lips together, trying his hardest to not let tears escape his eyes. “I don’t know. I guess, it’s affecting my self esteem? I felt like,” He couldn’t keep his tears anymore. The dams broke, tear droplets freely falling off his long lashes now. “I felt like…” A quiet sob stopped him from finishing his sentence. Your hands came up to grab his, running your thumbs over his knuckles in hopes of calming him down. “I felt like a fucking loser!” He finally managed to get out, your heart breaking at the look in his eyes. Hatred filled his dark irises, but not towards his date who bailed, but rather at himself. You pulled him into an embrace, unable to muster up words to console him. He gladly leaned in, gripping your shirt and crying into your chest. You let his warm tears soak through the cloth, not caring about anything other than giving him the comfort he needed so desperately. One of your hands softly stroked through his hair, the other rubbing gentle circles into his back. After giving him a moment to cry his heart out you started to quietly mumble reassurances into his ear. “Jeongguk you’re so handsome and kind, maybe it’s for the best she showed her true colors so early on. You deserve so much better. Someone who can give you the respect and love you deserve, someone who will be there for you when no one else is.” You placed a fleeting peck onto the crown of his head, causing him to snuggle further into your chest. The two of you cuddled till he calmed down, letting comfortable silence consume you.

“Maybe you’re right.” He muttered against you, the sound coming out muffled. “Hm, about what?” You asked, your hand that had stilled resuming the mindless movement on his back. “Finding someone who’s right for me is so hard,” he said, lifting his head up to look at you. “especially when they’re right in front of me.” He finished his sentence. “Right in front of you?” You tilted your head in confusion, not quite understanding what he meant. He tentatively leaned up closer to you, stopping a couple of centimeters away from your face. “Can I do something?” He asked, his warm breath tickling the skin of your face. You only gave a small nod, your heart rate beginning to pick up. His gaze dropped down to your lips, slowly he leaned in closer again, placing his soft lips onto yours. It only lasted a short moment, the kiss being a mere peck, but it made a million butterflies erupt in your stomach. Your heart pumped wildly in your chest, the circulation making your skin heat up.

“Hm, maybe try it again. For good measure.” You whispered feeling bold. The corner of his lip quirked up, he hummed in agreement and closed the gap between you again. This time the kiss lasted longer, his hand snuck up to cup the side of your face as he moved his lips against yours. He began to be more sloppy, opening his mouth more against yours and letting your saliva mix. You gladly let it happen, trying to slip your tongue past his lips. He got the memo and let it slide in, quietly moaning as his tongue pushed against yours. He disconnected your lips to get some air, climbing onto you and straddling your lap. Your hands instinctively went to hold his hips making him put his arms around your neck and resume making out with you. Groaning against his lips the kisses became more messy, teeth and tongues clashing in desperation. He ground his hips down onto yours, searching for friction to aid his hardening cock.

You started trailing kisses down the side of his face, stopping at his jaw to lightly nibble at the soft flesh. He huffed and tangled his fingers into yours hair, giving it a light tug. You continued to place messy kisses down his neck, bitting and sucking at his skin. In response he moaned, more loudly this time. Taking it as a sign to keep going you carried on with bruising his neck. His hips started to speed up, the grinding turning into humping. One of your hands snaked to his lower stomach, slipping it under his shirt and playing with the waistband of his pants. You slid your thumb inside it, gently stroking the flesh right above his cock. He softly whined into your ear, gripping your wrist to try guiding your hand where he needed it most. “Eager now, are we?” You teased and switched your kisses to pecks. “Please, I want you to touch me.” He whispered, trying to hump up against your hand. Deciding to be merciful, you dipped your hand into his boxers and pulled out his erect dick. He moaned at the feeling of your hand wrapping around him, biting down onto his lip in anticipation. You pulled away from his neck to get a good look at face. Whilst maintaining eye contact you let go of his cock, bringing your hand up you spat into your palm. He only watched you with hooded eyes, shivering at what was to come. Slowly you lathered up his dick, leisurely starting to twist your wrist around it. He lightly thrusted up into your hand, having to keep himself restrained from snapping his hips up like an animal in heat, but to no avail, he couldn’t help himself.

You barely even had to move your hand, he did most of the work by fucking up into it like a hormonal teenager who had never felt intimacy before. Your knuckles would occasionally skim against his lower stomach, making him shudder from the ticklish feeling on his sensitive skin. He whined out your name, his voice cracking as he pathetically rutted up into your fist. In the meantime, your other hand had gotten busy with kneading the flesh of his ass. You had been eyeing the supple flesh since you first met the man, always secretly wondering what kind of noises he’d make as your fingers filled him up to the rim. Gathering up the courage, you decided to ask him if you could finger his ass. “Jeongguk,” You quietly said, trying to get his attention. “Yes?” He replied breathily, slowing his thrusts down. “Can I finger you?” You asked looking up at him. “Fuck.” He felt his balls tense up as his empty hole clenched, the mere question almost making him cum. “Yes. Fuck, please do.” He huskily replied, his hips coming to a stop. “Take your pants off pretty boy.” You instructed as you tapped his hip, signaling for him to get off of you. He obediently came off and started taking off his pants together with his boxers. You got up from the couch and started walking to your room. “I need to go fetch some lube real quick. You can lose the shirt too.” You cheekily winked at him and looked him up and down. The tips of his ears reddened and he nodded dumbly at you.

Pulling your nightstand drawer open, you dug around the cluster or objects in search for the lubricant. Once you found it you quickly made your way back to the living room. On the couch laid Jeongguk in all his glory. Sprawled out with his legs wide open for you, completely naked and ready for you to destroy him. You knelt down between his legs pecking his knee and starting to litter kisses down towards his inner thigh. He shuddered, the chilly air of the living room and the feeling of your lips against his skin too much for him to bare. He lightly arched his back, his nipples hardening from the cold. You massaged his outer thigh as you popped the lid of the lube open with your thumb. “You ready?” You asked to which he hummed in reply. Raising an eyebrow at him you awaited a verbal answer, which he quickly scrambled to give. “Y-yes!” He stammered out. “Good.” You simply replied and started to apply the clear substance onto two of your fingers. “Relax, I can’t do anything if you’re tense.“ You said as you leaned down to give him a tender kiss. He took in a deep breath and relaxed his muscles with an exhale.

Your fingers lightly grazed his rim, testing the waters of his sensitivity. “S’cold.” He mumbled against your lips. “I know baby.” You replied an continued kissing him. Softly you pushed your middle finger against his hole, slowly easing in the tip of your finger. Seeing no signs of discomfort you continued pushing in till you hit the base of your knuckles. He sighed into your mouth, his hand coming up to rest on your bicep. “It it okay? Can I move it?” You questioned. “Mhm! S’okay.” He drowsily replied. You began to move your finger slowly, pumping it in and out of him. Jeongguk squirmed underneath you, letting out soft pants and gasps at the new sensation. Wiggling your finger around inside him, you deemed him ready enough to add another digit. “I’ll add another, okay?” You said as you slid your hand down his chest and towards his stomach. “Yes!” He replied breathlessly. Sliding the finger that was already inside of him almost all the way out, you probed at his entrance gently with the one next to it. They both went in with relative easy, making Jeongguk’s breathing become even more shallow once your knuckles reached the skin of his ass. You started pumping again, the lubricant making squelching noises. Once you were sure he was used to your fingers, you moved the hand which was resting on his stomach to take a hold of his neglected cock. The moan he let out the moment you touched his dick was like music to your ears, making you feel your own arousal grow.

You laid down onto the couch so your head was between his legs now. Nosing at his inner thigh you started to kiss and bite the skin. You trailed the kisses further down, stopping right in front of his cock. You looked up at him, admiring how his abdominal muscles would twitch when you pressed down especially deep inside of him. His head was thrown back, his Adams’s apple bobbing as he desperately tried to swallow down the excess spit forming in his mouth from his continuous moaning. You watched his face closely as you stopped jerking him off, waiting for him to look down at you so he can see you take his cock into your mouth. Just as you expected, he rolled his head, letting it drop forward as he stared down at you. “Why’d you sto-ah!” His question was cut off by his own moan the moment you licked a stripe from the base of his cock to the tip. He threw his head back again, his hips lifting off of the couch against his will. You wrapped your lips against his tip, lightly sucking whilst your hand jerked him off, occasionally squeezing the base of his cock and lightly bobbing your head. Purposely you drooled onto his cock, watching as the saliva slid down to his balls. With one last lick to his tip, you made your way downwards and began to lick and suck at his balls. He kept on bucking up into you, chasing his high with fervor. “Ah! I think I’m gonna- I think I’m gonna…” He panted, trying to let you know about his approaching orgasm through his whines of pleasure.

You took his cock back into your mouth, moving your head up and down the length in the same rhythm as the fingers which you were still pumping inside of him. With one last drawn out moan his hips spasmed and he came into your throat. The pleasure of his orgasm jolted through his entire body, leaving him shaking and whining at the overwhelming sensation. He lightly pushed you away when he came down from his high, his form going limp underneath you. You swallowed down every drop of cum he had to offer, pulling away from his cock with a wet pop. You sat up onto your knees, looking down at him you admired your work, enjoying seeing him become such a mess for you. You quickly fetched a towel to clean him up and brought him a glass of water which he eagerly gulped down. The moment you laid down next to him, he climbed onto you and snuggled into your chest. “I didn’t do anything for you, I’m sorry.” He mumbled looking up at you. “Nonsense, I’m just happy I could help fix your mood.” You responded and soon the two of you fell into a comfortable silence.

“You ever smoked cigarettes after having sex?” You ask out of the blue. Jeongguk looks up at you in confusion, letting out a short giggle. “What? Like the band?” He asks, his doe eyes staring up at you. “Yeah, like the band.” You softly smile down at him, moving his bangs away from his forehead. “You wanna go have a cigarette and listen to them?” Your smile spread wider as you proposed the idea. “That sounds kind of nice actually.” He replied and lifted himself off of your chest to sit up. You helped him get dressed and grabbed your cigarettes and both of your jackets before making your way out onto the balcony with him. You put Cigarettes After Sex on shuffle and pull out a cigarette for each of you. Placing one of them into Jeongguk’s mouth you took a lighter out of your pocket. Your thumb slides across the spark wheel twice before you successfully light a flame. The two of you maintained eye contact while you lifted it up to his cigarette, watching him inhale the smoke. You light your own and melted into your seat, enjoying the quiet music playing in the background.

Jeongguk’s eyes remain transfixed on your side profile as you look out towards the distance, completely lost in thought. “Hey, Uhm (Y/N)?” He says before taking another drag of smoke to which you hum in response. “What are we?” The question echoes through your mind, makes a small lump form in your throat. “Hm, I don’t know.” You reply simply, not wanting to look at him in fear that he’d say he only wanted to be friends. After all this time of longing for him and watching him go on those stupid dates, you couldn’t handle being friend-zoned, especially subsequently to finally getting a taste of him. “Whatever you want I guess.” You add on, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. In the corner of your eye you can see his form slightly deflate. “Would you… not want to be with me?” He asked in a meek tone, turning his head toward the opposite direction. Seeing this as your chance to finally tell him how you feel, you let your tongue loose. “I would. Any day in any universe I would. I’ve wanted to be with you since we first met if I’m being honest, I guess I’ve just,” you paused, taking a moment to choose your next words. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re a fucking moron Jeon Jeongguk. I mean seriously what would make you think I wouldn’t want to be with you? I’ve been way too obvious, I thought you knew I liked you.” The words pour out of you before you can stop them, leaving both of you a bit surprised. “Do you just like me or do you like like me?” He questioned, looking at you with hopeful eyes. “Are we in middle school or something?” You grinned at him, teasing his choice of words. “I like like you Jeongguk.”

[apomaro-mellow]

Wrong Number 3

(2:21 am) I just realized something (2:21 am) Ur a cooking teacher (2:22 am) Who can't fry a egg (2:23 am) You're a fraud 🫵

[7:29 am] I can fry an egg just fine I just can't make the yolks runny. It's too hard to time it right. And why are you up thinking about eggs at 2 am?

(7:47 am) I was up thinking about you at 2 am

Steve felt his stomach flip as he sipped his coffee and set his belongings down in his classroom. Eddie didn't play games. He always said exactly what he was thinking. And it drew Steve wild.

(7:48 am) And about how your students might clown on you for not being able to scramble an egg

[7:49] Aww you're worried about me?

(7:49 am) Kids can be little monsters (7:50 am) Actually how old are the little monsters you teach?

[7:51] Youngest is 6 and oldest is 14. Speaking of, they'll be arriving soon so...

(7:52 am) Godspeed you academic warrior

Eddie didn't typically text so late on weeknights. Not since learning Steve was a teacher. It was just that he truly HAD been up and thinking of him. Steve drove him crazy and he thought he was doing a good job keeping a lid on it. 2 am texts were what happened when the lid got loose but Steve didn't seem put off by it.

At about half past three, Steve called him. Eddie was glad he made that leap with his first call. The sound of Steve's voice never failed to warm him through. Eddie was in the middle of collecting axes for sharpening at the end of his shift.

"What's cookin' good lookin'?", Eddie greeted as he picked up.

"Today was good. Had a really riveting conversation about meatloaf versus pate with the kids", Steve said.

"Meatloaf rocks and pate is just cold meatloaf for rich people. End of discussion."

"Well, we talked about it for like fifteen minutes. Had a real interesting tangent on forcemeats in general."

Eddie paused. "Excuse me?"

"You'd be surprised at what kids are into. This one I taught last year was really into rice-"

"I need you to backtrack just a bit. 'Forcemeat'?"

"Yeah it's-oh grow up", Steve chided while shaking his head. He had just gotten home and was taking off his work clothes for something more comfortable. He thought about what Eddie might think he'd look nice in. "Not even my 12 year olds are this childish."

There was something about the way Steve talked about his students. Like they were his actual children. The conversation continued for a few minutes more before Steve suddenly had to hang up. Eddie tried not to think much of it, but it wasn't the first time that it had happened.

Steve ended the call just as Robin came into the apartment. She narrowed her eyes at him, then looked to the phone in his hand. Steve hid it behind his back and winced at practically telling on himself.

"You're hiding something."

"No I'm not."

"And now you're lying to me."

"No I'm not!"

Robin pounced and wrestled him for the phone. It wasn't a real fight of course. Steve could've pinned her in seconds but a part of him was tired of keeping the secret. And obviously, she knew how to unlock his phone.

"Who's Eddie?", she asked, sitting on his back triumphantly.

"A guy."

"Thank you, I had no idea it could be a man's name. You've been texting him aaaaaaa llllllllllllot."

"Are you reading them!? Robin!"

"Where did you meet him?", Robin said as she got up, continuing to read through their conversations.

"I um, technically, haven't. Yet."

Robin gave him an odd look and Steve spilled everything to her. To her credit, Robin listened to the full story before throwing one of the couch pillows at him.

"Stephen Elliott Harrington! Did no one teach you stranger danger? You just kept texting him? And calling? And I saw the pictures you sent. You know he can find out where we live? What if I came home to your skinless corpse??!"

It went on for a while like that and when Robin was finished, she collapsed onto the couch. Steve sat across from her on the coffee table. He waited for her to silently process it all.

"You think he's cute?"

"What I've seen of him, yeah."

Robin sighed. "I can't believe you're turning into the guy who has a internet girlfriend."

Steve rolled his eyes but then balked when she started to read through his messages again.

"And I can't believe you haven't even started flirting yet."

"I've been flirting with him the whole time!" Maybe not the whole time but-

"You're giving him Diet Steve. Why are you holding back?"

Steve shrugged, looking sheepish now. Now Robin was rolling her eyes.

"Steve, we're getting you a date."

"But he's-"

"A virtual one. Jesus is he an axe murderer?", Robin said as she looked to one of the texts.

"No, he just works with them. Axes! Not murderers."

--------------------------------

Eddie was about to sit down to a movie when his phone buzzed.

[5:17 pm] Thinking about you.

Oh. Now that was some text to get.

(5:18 pm) Oh yeah? (5:18 pm) What about me?

Steve looked to Robin. They were sitting cross-legged next to each other on his bed.

"What do I say?"

"Be honest, duh."

"If I'm honest I'm gonna talk about his hands."

Robin shook her hands at him like she wanted to wring his neck. Steve got the idea and decided to put himself out there.

[5:21 pm] Your hands. I think about them a lot actually

Eddie had not given his own hands much thought. But knowing that Steve admired them, he gave them a second look. He thought about them gripping Steve's thighs.

(5:23) You're gonna make me blush (5:24) What would you do with my hands Stevie?

Steve panicked and looked to Robin. "Are we sexting? Is he getting me to sext?"

"That's the idea, dingus. I said I was getting you a date. Now tell him what you want him to do."

"I don't know I'd....I'd want to..." Steve trailed off, looking at his phone while the fingers of his other hand brushed against his lips.

Robin stole the phone from him again and started typing. "'First...I'd suck..on them'."

"Robin!"

"Is that not what you want?"

Steve shrugged and Robin continued. "You've got me on the clock for five more minutes before I go out. You dictate, I'll type."

Steve hated how much he liked the idea. Especially when he heard the ping of Eddie's reply. "What did he say?"

Robin cleared her throat. "'Yeah? You wanna suck on them? I bet you got a beautiful mouth.' Oh he's good."

"Yeah", Steve breathed out. "Really good." He thought about Eddie sticking his fingers in and pressing down on his tongue, his rings tasting metallic and so nice.

"'I wanna choke on them'", Robin said out loud as she typed. "Is it too soon to call him Daddy?"

"What?!" That snapped Steve out of it.

"Oh come on. Tattoos, the hair, his job. He wants to be called Daddy."

"Robin don't call him Daddy."

"Pops?"

Steve took his phone from her and looked to Eddie's reply.

(5:30 pm) I'd only choke you if you were being bad (5:30 pm) Are you gonna be bad baby?

[5:31 pm] Maybe. I can be good too. So good.

(5:32 pm) Lemme call you baby wanna hear you

Steve dialed without hesitation just as Robin was leaving. Her work was done.

"Don't get murdered while I'm out!", she shouted just as Eddie picked up.

"Hey pretty baby", Eddie said.

"Hey. You said you wanted to hear me?"

"Yeah. I wanna hear you say those things with your own voice."

"Like how I wanna choke on your fingers? Among other things?"

Steve could hear Eddie let out a breath on the other end. The power he felt right now was intoxicating.

"Bet you'd look so good on your knees."

Steve hummed while pressing his fingertips to his lips. If Eddie asked, he'd suck on them. Let the wet noises fill his ears, let Eddie know how good he could be.

"Darlin' you went quiet."

"I'm thinking", Steve said, laying down on his bed. "I wanna show you, Eddie."

Eddie swallowed. This man would be the death of him. He'd nearly jerked off to just a picture of his fully clothed lower half. If he saw more...if he saw everything-

"Eddie! We've got a Code Red!"

"Jesus! Knock!"

Steve sat up quick at the shouting coming from Eddie's end. It sounded like someone had barged in.

"Eddie?"

"Sorry. Sorry Steve. I gotta handle something. Um, call you back? Please?"

"Eddie, I want to video call you."

"V..video...?"

"Yes. I wanna see you. Please."

"Yes. Yes, a thousand times-hold your horses! Uh, tomorrow? It's Saturday, so you're free, right? Can we make it a date?"

"A date", Steve nodded. "I'll see you then. I'll be thinking of you."

"And I'll be counting the seconds. 1-one thousand, 2-one thousand, 3-one th-ouch! Okay! Damn!"

Eddie hung up and Steve still had the phone to his ear, smiling. He had a video call date. He had a date with Eddie!

Shit what should he wear?

Part 5

Tag Team (CLOSED)

@anne-bennett-cosplayer @estrellami-1 @newtstabber @omletlove @ifyoudonlysurrender @rehfan @morganski-19 @corvidcantina @dragonmama76 @just-ladyme @tinyplanet95 @goodolefashionedloverboi @idoquitelikebread @kittydeadbones @manda-panda-monium @rhapsodyinalto @paintsplatteredandimperfect @keylime-green @ihavekidneys @samsoble @honorarybrit81 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @aizawa-emma @deleataecount @thesuninyaface @fromapayphone @justmeinadaze @hbyrde36 @queenie-ofthe-void @resident-gay-bitch @bestwifehaver @dangdirtydemons @ellietheasexylibrarian @perseus-notjackson @pyrohonk @holysteddie @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @mrsjellymunson @geekymagicalpotato @notaqueenakhaleesi

[nvrsaidiwasinurcloset]

Maybe something angsty with an insecure fem!reader who gets jealous over girls flirting with ethan— or it could be the other way around with a jealous Ethan. Whichever you prefer! The angst then leads to smut, maybe somewhat possessive sex with some dirty talk? Thank you!

I hope you like it! :)

Bite Me - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

This contains SMUT - Minors DNI

Summary: A girl flirting with Ethan leads to an explosive interaction, but he's going to show you why you're the only one he wants.

A/N: This was so much fun to write. I love a good angsty moment. Maybe because I, myself am angsty as fuck.

You were out on a date with Ethan at your favorite restaurant. You’re celebrating your 1 year anniversary, and it’s been the best year. You’ve experienced so much with him and can’t wait to see where it goes.

As you sat at the table, deep in conversation about one of your classes, a girl walked up to your table.

“Hey, Ethan!” she slurred, you noticed that she’s obviously been drinking.

“Hey, what’s up?” he asked, as she leaned her elbows on the table.

“I heard you’re the best for tutoring, so I was hoping we could have some private sessions,” she said, flipping her hair over her shoulder.

“Uh, if you want me to tutor you, we could meet in the library,” he suggested, as you felt anger build up inside you.

“That’s perfect, I’ll message you on Instagram to see when works for you,” she said, as she looked over her shoulder at you.

“Oh, are you his girlfriend?” she asked, her breath smelling heavily of vodka.

“Yep, sure am,” you said through gritted teeth.

“That’s too bad,” she said, before directing her attention to your boyfriend. “Bye Ethan.”

When she walked away, his smile faded when he saw the look on your face.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, confused.

“What’s wrong? You just said you were going to tutor some girl that obviously wants to fuck you,” you said. At this point, you were seething. “I think I’m ready to go.”

You stood up from the table and walked out before Ethan was able to say anything. You were able to cool down for a minute as you waited for him to pay. When he walked out, he had a napkin in his hand.

“What’s that?” you asked curiously.

“Oh, the girl that wants me to tutor her gave me her number,” he said, as you both got in the car.

“Why the fuck didn’t you throw it away?” you asked, the anger building back up.

“I will, I wasn’t trying to be rude,” he said, as he focused on driving.

“You weren’t trying to be rude to her after she was disrespectful to our relationship. Nice,” you snapped.

“I tutor several people, babe, you know that. And she was drunk, she probably wasn’t trying to come off like that,” he said, and this is the one time that his innocence was really pissing you off.

“You are so oblivious. Do the other girls that you tutor act like that?” you asked, ready to get out of the car.

“No, babe, I don’t…wait, what are you saying? You think I’m cheating on you or something?” he asked, and you started to tear up.

“I’m not saying that. I just think it’s fucked up that you want to spend alone time with anyone that acts like that,” you said, a tear slipping down your cheek.

“The library isn’t a place to be alone. What about that don’t you understand?” he asked, anger evident in his voice.

“What you need to understand is that when we get back to your apartment, I’m getting in my car and going home. Fuck this whole anniversary thing,” you said lowly.

The rest of the ride back to Ethan’s was silent, no music, no talking, nothing. Once he pulled into the parking spot, you got out of the car and walked over to yours.

“Fuck, I need my phone charger that’s here. Mines broken,” you said, speaking for the first time in twenty minutes.

“Okay,” was all he could say as you followed him inside.

Once he unlocked the door, you saw rose petals all over the floor. Your heart started to melt a little.

“Ethan, did you do this for me?” you asked, looking around at the candles.

“Yeah, Chad came over and lit the candles when I told him we were leaving the restaurant. Kinda dumb now, huh?” he asked, tossing his keys on the kitchen counter.

“Why is it dumb?” you asked, looking over his stone-cold expression.

“Were you in the same car as me? Do you remember saying ‘Fuck this anniversary’?” he snapped.

“Ethan, do you not understand why I was hurt at that restaurant?” you asked, a crack in your voice as you tried to hold back your tears.

“Yeah, you have issues with another girl talking to me,” he said.

“I was upset that you didn’t tell her no when she had other intentions. I’m upset that any girl thinks she’s going to fuck you aside from me,” you said, as he walked towards you.

He didn’t say anything as he grabbed your hand and took you to his room. The room was dimly lit with candles on the floor. It made you so sad that the night was ruined, because this was the most romantic and sweet thing anyone had ever done for you.

As he stood in front of you, you saw a little anger in his dark eyes, but you also saw a lot of love.

“Do you think I’d want to be with anyone that isn’t you?” he asked, the tension still thick in the air.

“No,” you whispered.

He stepped forward, holding your face in his hands as he kissed you, hard. He reached around and grabbed your ass, making you moan into the kiss.

“I’m going to show you why you have nothing to worry about,” he said, pushing you onto his bed.

He hovered over you, kissing you with the same intensity as before. His hand squeezed your hip as he started to kiss down your neck. You felt his teeth graze your skin, whimpers slipping past your lips. He pulled away from you long enough to slip your shirt over your head. He noticed that you had his favorite bra on, and smirked to himself as he kissed a line down the center of your chest and stomach. He slid your leggings off, noticing that the panties you were wearing matched the bra. He almost didn’t want to take them off you.

“You were looking forward to me fucking you tonight, huh?” he asked, massaging the flesh of your thighs. You moaned in response, the feeling of his hands on you making your core throb.

“I asked you a question, baby,” he said, his eyes boring into your needy ones.

“Yes,” you said, as he slid your panties down your legs.

He ran his fingers over the newly exposed area, alternating between rubbing your clit and dipping a finger inside of you.

“You think I’d really want to fuck someone else when you have a pussy this perfect?” he asked, his words making you whine.

He continued to tease you, watching your face with a smirk.

“Please baby, I need you,” you said.

“You want me to eat your pussy, baby?” he asked, and you nodded.

He leaned forward, lapping at your dripping core. You moaned out as your legs spread further apart, him kneading your flesh while his eyes connected with yours.

“Fuck, you taste so good,” he said as he pulled away to take a breath.

He wrapped his mouth around your clit, gently sucking on the bundle of nerves.

“Oh my god,” you cried out, his tongue rolling against you as he sucked.

He slipped two fingers inside of you, moving them against that special spot inside of you at a fast pace.

“Fuck, your gonna make me cum, baby.” He watched your face as you started to hit your peak, only breaking the eye contact when your body started to jolt. He kept up his pace, before slowing down once your walls stopped fluttering around his fingers.

Once you came down from your high, you slid off the bed, crouching on your knees in front of him. You unbuttoned his pants and slid down the zipper, your eyes never leaving his.

“I’m going to show you exactly why you shouldn’t be studying with girls like the one from tonight,” you said, mocking his comment from earlier.

You pulled his hard cock out of his boxers, placing gentle licks to his tip. You licked a stripe underneath his erection, from base to tip, before sucking him in your mouth. He gasped as he reached his hand down, tangling it in your hair. He started to thrust his hips forward a little, making you gag around him. He kept going, until he was as far in your mouth as you could take him. He looked down at you to see the tears streaming down your face.

“You’re doing such a good job, baby,” he said, the grip on your hair getting tighter. “Your mouth is amazing.”

It didn’t take long before the combination of the both of your actions had him approaching his orgasm.

“Fuck, I’m going to cum. Where do you want it?” he asked, but you just kept sucking.  He released in your mouth as you swallowed. “God, you’re perfect.”

“You got another one for me, baby?” you asked, standing up and placing kisses along his neck. You reached down to stroke his sensitive cock that was already starting to get hard again.

“You keep talking like that, you’ll struggle to walk when I’m done with you,” he said lowly.

“You promise?”

He pushed you back on the bed for the second time of the night, grabbing your hips and pulling you to the edge. He placed your legs on his shoulders as he gently pushed into you.

“Oh fuck,” you moaned out at the feeling of him stretching you out.

He started to move his hips, like he was trying to release a little bit of the frustration from your conversation earlier in the night. He pounded into you, staring down to watch his cock go in and out of your pussy.

“I’m yours, baby. Always yours,” he said, circling his fingers against your clit.

He leaned forward with your legs still on his shoulders, making it easy for him to hit that special spot inside of you with every thrust. Your legs started to shake and your vision went blurry as you orgasm quickly crept up.

“You gonna cum, baby?” he asked rubbing your clit faster.

You couldn’t form words as you babbled, completely cock-drunk.

When you tightened around him, he whimpered.

He pulled out and released his cum, shooting it on your thighs and your stomach.

“Fuck, that was a close one,” he joked, almost not pulling out in time. You waited for him to catch his breath, before he grabbed a towel to wipe his cum off you.

You tried to stand up to grab your panties, but your legs started to wobble, feeling like Jell-O. You fell back on the bed, as he laughed a little.

“I told you that you wouldn’t be able to walk,” he said, tossing your panties at you.

[lady-ashfade]

Can I place an order of Blueberry Pie with Villain Class 1-A. Please and Thank You.

Broken Shoes

´*: ･ﾟ⋆˒ Villain!Au!Class 1A x College!Waiter!Reader. (Reader doesn’t have pronouns in this)

WORDS: 2.1k

WARNINGS: Yandere!Behaviors, Everyone is in their 20s, Posted Late, Dark!Romance, Reader Is Just From America But Any Race, Villan Au, Non-Quirk Au, Is the reader is claimed any pronouns tell me so I can fix it.

Bakery event.

A/N: I got a idea from the requester of what they wanted since it has taken me so long, thankful so much for them!!

˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚ 🫐 🥧 ˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚

The first incident was when your shoe feel apart on your way home, the bottom coming undo and looked and sounded like a flip flop. It was rough because they had been your shoes for years, they had to give up sometime. But you didn’t have enough money to pay for a new pair. The only thrift store was a long ways away from where you live and you’d never have the extra money for train ride. So you did what you could…And tried to make it work again. With glue and your sewing kit and then had something to last you a few more weeks.

You set up a new jar in your kitchen by the window, next to the bigger blue jar with the labeled “computer”, while this one was pink and for shoes. You worked at a shitty diner in Japan, a American experience which was perfect since you moved here in your late teen years from the US. The day belonged to collage classes for you’re own business degree to work in more places and maybe start a chain of your own. And after you worked as long as you could to make it through life.

“Mornin’,” you greet your manager. The older woman smiled as she took the rag and whipped off the white counter, the lights from the screens hitting her back to make her pink outfit pop. Hana was the nicest woman you ever met, she was shorter then you with a plump body, her age showing in her skin but her face remained chubby and almost wrinkle free. After any day you had, you knew her warm smile could make you feel better.

While helping around you both chatted about your day and how it went, her more leaning towards your story while making short answers for her day. So, you told her all about school and even some things you learned and studied before customers began the walk through the doors, one after the other and so forth. The conversation died and you did your job.

“Enjoy your evening!” You shout as the last pair of people leave and you lock the doors behind them before exhaling as your body grows tired. The night had come to a end as the moon stood in the darken sky to shine just a bit of light on the streets. Not like they need it with the street lights and building lights.

“Hana, I’ll be in the bathroom.” You shout. Making your way to the bathroom your feet drag as the night hits you like a ton of bricks. The rush hour today was busier then it had been in a few weeks.

Hana was in the back to punch in all the things that happened while taking the money out of the cash register to count it. Her eyes trailed up to the metal door where the trashcans stayed after someone had knocked. It wasn’t un normal to her since she gave a few homeless people food when there was some left over, so she figured it would be them. Her feet took her to the door and her fingers unlocked the handle, before pushing it open with a bright smile.

“Kenji, how can I help you?” She spoke to nothing but air.

Hana blinked her eyes a few times before realizing no one was there, not a person in sight just a empty alleyway. Now this was strange. The knocking was loud and had to be made intentionally. The one thing that made sense of it was when she looked down there was a box with a bow.

Hana brought it to the main room and set it on the counter, just in time for you to exit the bathroom with a sour look on your face. “You got a present.” She exclaimed.

As you examined the box you saw a card attached,

“To: Y/n.

Hope you can find this helpful, thank you for the amazing service.”

The first thought you had was, who could have sent it, before even opening the box. There was a older couple who commented on your shoes but they didn’t seem like the type, and a man in a suit also had his opinions on your attire though he seemed too stingy for that. But you stopped thinking to see what was inside and hoped it wasn’t to grand.

When your eyes hit the shoes they widened a bit, they were perfect. They didn’t look too expensive but brand new with no stains on them or nothing. They looked good to work in, to jog, and to do anything you wanted.

“I bet it was that yellow haired man,” Hana commented out of the blue. You turn your head and tilted it to the side, who was she talking about? You’ve seen so many customers with yellow hair…

“Don’t give me that look dear. The cute one who always stares at you, and never complains and has you talking for hours.” you blink a few times before placing a face to the scenario.

Denki? Yeah, you think that’s his name. He always comes in every other Thursday with the same order, same questions and never wants you to leave his table. He was a sweet man, but flirtatious and sometimes you think you’ve seen him before but never have a clue. Today he came in just as before, made a few flirty jokes that you played along to, and had to rush off since it was a full diner.

“Hmm, maybe. I’ll just have to wait and see if they reveal themselves.” You hummed before going back to cleaning.

That wasn’t the only time random gifts showed up.

Each couple of weeks a new one popped up out of the blue. You’d be in the library and looking of books to help your course studies but find non, or even looking them up on the computer and find out they are too expensive to buy on your own. Then, they show up where you sit each day in classes. No one would look your way, no one was suspicious. It wasn’t just school things, but it was the things you see in windows. You’d see something pretty, look at it and imagining wearing it, then walk away knowing your wallet couldn’t handle it. Your house started to be filled with things you didn’t even buy.

Weeks of things being left you started to grow more and more worried, things you didn’t speak about. And things arriving at your door step. The last thing that made you freak out completely was a computer, the best money could buy and the note made you break. “Ditch the jar, we’ve got it covered.” Who the hell knew about the jars you had? No one did, not even Hana knew because you knew she’d give you money. Someone knew where you lived- someone sent a gifted, someone looked into your apartment or went in to see the jars.

“We’ve got it covered.” Those words stuck into your head every day after.

The blinds to your apartment now remind closed, you took the money you were saving for a computer and got extra locks for your windows. And you never took the gifts that arrived anymore. If it was at class, you’d leave them, if they came to your door you’d say they got the wrong person, if it came to your work the dumpster ate it.

Soon the gifts came to a stop. Nothing show up anymore and you felt relief, like you could breath without worrying about being watched. You stoped looking around the place for suspicious activity, your life went back to normal — Shitty, but normal.

Just as you suspected — Things went wrong for the last time.

Nosies woke you up from sleep, you had been too tired to notice anything or actually think about your actions. So you went out of your bedroom towards the noise, no plan, no worries about your life, but tired and wanting it to end. So as you turn the corner of the hall you hear hushed voices.

“Dumbass— Shut up, you’re making too much noise.” Someone, with a deeper and more grit to their voice spoke. They sounded angry…Like a man you once met on a bus.

Someone whined in response. “Don’t be mean to him Kacchan, and you’re being equally as loud. Now, everyone quiet and lets get our darling and head out.” That voice was strange to you, it was high pitched and loving but there was something else to it.

A little bit of awakening hit you and you started to look around the hall for anything of use. Wait, everyone? — That means there are more people then the two who spoke. The only thing you had that you could hit somebody with was a umbrella but you had to make do.

So, you grab ahold of the handle and hold it like a bat, then go sprinting to the doorway and popping out to surprise who ever was there.

You probably should have thought of more threatening words….

“I don’t have much!! If you’re here to rob me you’ve chosen poorly, but if anyone touches my computer you’re dying.” and like that, you point at the people in front of your umbrella-bat.

Your mind acted so quickly that it just took in everyone standing in front of you. People you have met before. The man from the train with a darken snarl that’s the same.. Denki, the guy who flirts with you at work. Another man who is always nice and friendly when he enters your work, Izuku?

“Hey honey!” A squealing voice takes your widen eyes off the green haired man. The woman who spoke was someone who you’ve talk to at school, one of the pretty girls that sit below you, Mina Ashido.

“Wha… What are you all doing in my apartment?” Your arms held up the umbrella and body still stiffened and alert.

“Don’t worry, we aren’t here to hurt you,” Izuku smiles and walks aloug your kitchen table, “and definitely not here to rob you, most of your things, expensive things, came from us.” he slides the computer along the table towards you. It started to make a bit of sense of how you’ve been getting everything.

Denki and Izuku know where you worked and gave you the shoes, they had both been in the diner that day. Mina had given you the books you looked at in the library and saw were too expensive. And the mean blonde had saw were you get off of the bus. They must have all been following you.

“What do you want then?” You backed away from them. Your eyebrows frown and arms began to tremble in heightened fear and adrenaline of your life being threatened.

“We want you, sweet thing,” the rough one spoke and the nickname sounded strange from his mouth. “The question is,” he stepped closer as your inched backwards, starting a game of chase.

“Are you gonna’ make this easy or not?”

You hummed in fear of what’s to come and wanted to run. Your body was almost about to move before a warm hand covered your mouth and made you scream and wiggle against the chest that was pressed against your back.

“I told you not to bring weapons,” the person behind you snapped at the others, making them all roll their eyes.

“I wasn’t going to hurt them!” Mina shouted.

“The gun was for looks, had to look badass for my babe.” Denki smirked.

“I wouldn’t hurt them badly, my knife would only stab their horrible neighbors.” Izuku laughed.

“And why would I listen to you, old man?”

A sharp pain in your neck shot throughout your body as your limbs began to numb up almost immediately. Your vocal cords wouldn’t make any sound when you wanted to scream, your legs couldn’t run, there was no fighting back. All you could do was keep your eyes open for as long as you could while being picked up.

A older man had you placed in his arms. Dark long hair with gray at the roots, the same for his beard. He looked tired but deadly with the glare he gave them. You knew this man. He was a teacher in the lecture room beside yours, the same man you greeted each morning — The man you served coffee to on Saturday mornings.

“You know damn well what I’ll do if you hurt them, if anyone of you spoiled brats hurt them.” His voice started to get drowned out by ringing in your ears. You wanted to listen and to stay away but your eyes just felt too heavy to go on….

There wasn’t just five of them waiting for you to wake up again, but 20 villains going insane for you.

[fckeddiemunson]

Who Do You Belong To? | Older!Eddie Munson

Synopsis: Eddie and you have been neighbours for a while and have been casually fucking. When you bring somebody else home who can actually satisfy you too. Eddie gets jealous and has to remind you who you belong to

Warnings: 18+ ONLY MDNI. choking, p in v, pussy slapping, slight dom!eddie, slight mean!eddie, oral f!receiving, just lots of general fucking, breeding kink, some fluff at the end cause i couldnt help myself 

3.4k 

You and Eddie had been neighbours in the trailer park for about 3 years. You had moved in after a messy breakup and quickly became attached to Eddie as a friend and somewhat mentor as he taught you how to fix certain things in your car. Eddie was older than you and still breathtaking. He had matured into his look, gathered more tattoos over time and gained some muscle from being a mechanic. He had helped you back on your feet after the breakup, helping you get another job at the bar he often played at with his local band, always keeping young at heart. 

Eddie was a useless cook though and most nights he’d come to yours, bringing a few beers to share and attempt to help you cook a meal for the two of you. It was your way of saying thank you for saying thank you for the car help. 

Its also how you two started fucking.

 One night after dinner was well over, you both sat outside, both sitting across from each other on the deck chair you had bought to tan yourself on. You were both drinking and talking, he always made you laugh. He was goofy and a little wild. He would tell you stories from when he was 20 and what he and his friends used to get up to. It was a little unbelievable you thought quietly but Eddie said it with such conviction you had to believe him. You didn’t know how it happened, one minute you were talking about music and concerts and the next Eddie’s lips were on yours, your hands tangling in his hair. 

Eddie managed to get you into his bed that night. He teased you on the couch for almost an hour, his fingers coaxing orgasm after orgasm from you. When he fucked you in was deep and slow, savouring the moment for the both of you. He reached areas of you, you didn’t know was possible and unlocked pleasure previously foreign to you. It was clear he had a lot of experience in the area and it made your stomach flip in anticipation each time you saw him. After that first night you kept finding your ways into each other's beds at ungodly hours of the morning. Each time he took you it felt like the first time, he would touch you and feel you like he had never before. Electrifying your skin with his touch. You had briefly discussed that this was a strictly casual thing. Or at least you both were trying to convince yourself it was that. Eddie was the only thing on your mind as you fell asleep at night, when Eddie was out late with friends or playing a gig you resorted to getting yourself off while thinking of him between your legs. Eddie was the same, the occasions he had caught a glimpse of you going out with your girlfriends to a bar, he was always jealous he wasn’t parading you around in that tight little dress, nobody allowed to touch you except him, it sent him feral. 

You had both come to the decision that it was good for you both to see other people. That this was fun but it was just a bit of a fling while you were both bored. Anyway Eddie was in his very late thirties and you in your mid twenties, it didn’t make sense to try and attach any relationship to the filthy, dirty sex you kept having. 

Eddie was the first to bring home a girl after a gig he played. He was shocked to say the least, usually there was a crowd of drunk middle aged metalheads reliving their teenage years. You were seething to say the least, arms crossed sitting up in bed as you could hear him through the thin walls and close distance. You could hear him making her come over and over again. His cock stretching her out and pounding her senseless. 

That morning you had watched her slip out, doing the walk of shame through the park. She stayed the night? You always left me afterwards! You thought furiously, you stepped outside your trailer with a coffee watching her walk away staggering a little. 

“Morning sweetheart” Eddie appeared at his door, shirtless, you looked him up and down, eyes drinking in his messy morning hair and his muscled arms. Eddie took a step towards you and took a big gulp from your coffee cup. 

“That wasn’t very nice” You stated, looking longingly into the empty coffee cup. “You seemed to have had a good night, she even stayed the night” you couldn’t help the passive aggressive tone drip from your voice. 

“I did have a good night, you’re right. She made such pretty faces when she came-”

“Ugh, fucking men” You had heard enough, you stamped back inside and slammed the door. 

Eddie followed you to your door, “Maybe you should go out tonight? Let loose” Eddie called after you. That made you more annoyed, he was clearly riling you up about the woman he fucked, and it was working. 

So you did, for the next few weekends you went out with your friends and found a cute enough guy to bring home. It was a useless exercise, they were all around your age and useless around a woman's body. After the second time you kicked the guy out and  had showered and gone crawling over to Eddie’s trailer, desperate for him to make you come. 

“Aww darlin’, couldn’t he make you come? Bet he didn’t even get you close, poor boy” Eddie cooed to you, his fingers buried inside your cunt as he pumped and curled his fingers making you see stars after only a few minutes. 

“Fuck you Eddie” You had moaned out as he said that, thrusting himself into you as you fell apart beneath him, a string of moans and curses whining from your mouth. After that time, you hadn’t brought anyone else home, knowing they could never compare to Eddie. 

You had calmed down from that night as Eddie didn’t seem to bring anybody else home either. Your routine of dinner and a few drinks had continued as normal, but no more sex. It was as if in your heads you had both called it quits without even trying. Eddie was talking about his gig the next night, and you were helping him sew on some more patches onto his denim vest. 

“I have kept this vest for over 20 years.” He said proudly, admiring your neat handiwork on the patches. 

“Jeez old man, that’s basically my entire life - time to retire your lucky vest.” You punched his tattooed arm as he fake laughed at you. Something about him being older really got your off. 

“Well you’re the one who’s fucked this old man darlin’ so I think I’m the lucky one” Eddie chuckled and you fell awkwardly silent, not knowing where you stood since you had stopped sleeping together. Eddie filled the awkward silence though 

“You should come tomorrow night at the Hideout, I think it would be fun, bring some of your friends and we’ll have a few drinks” Eddie smiled at you. You had never been to a gig of his before. 

“Okay I will, I’ll dredge up my leather pants just for the occasion” You joked with him. 

“Hey! Me too.” Eddie literally pulled out some leather pants from a pile of clothes and you had to mentally slap yourself for thinking about his ass in those. 

You thought that maybe just being friends and neighbours with Eddie won’t be that bad and that you could both just keep pushing your feelings down. 

You and your friend Elaine had ended up going, more people gathered in the bar than you imagined. You had already done a shot with Eddie when you got there, a bit buzzed already. “Wish me luck sweetheart” Eddie had said, booping your nose and going to get the stage ready.  Elaine had started talking to a nice guy who was buying you drinks and you turned to go find Eddie before they played, as you did you were met with a hard frame. Looking up to see another metal head, beer in hand that was now all over him. He was young about your age and wickedly cute. 

“I’m so sorry, let me” you grabbed some napkins from the bar and frantically wiped up  his shirt. 

“Oh sorry, that was probably a bit weird doing that.” He laughed at you before outstretching his hand. “I’m Andy, do you want to buy me a drink and come sit with me to make it up?” He cocked his head to the side and you introduced yourself and ordered him a beer and followed him to an empty bar table. You and Andy got on very well and talked for ages, you had a nice view of the stage from where you were so you stayed with him chatting as Corroded Coffin got ready. 

Eddie was watching you like a hawk from across the room. He wasn’t overly worried, you’d be crawling to him by the end of the night, begging for him to fuck you and fill you with his come. You had actually worn tight leather pants and they were sending him over the edge, not that he’d admit that to anyone, he was still convinced what you had was no strings attached. Still he felt a slight twinge in his heart as he watched you laugh at the younger man's jokes and touched his arm affectionately. Eddie had played the show anger rising with every song as he watched you with this guy. The larger than usual crowd was loving his aggression but he was going crazy watching you. By the last song, Eddie watched him slide his arm around your waist and lean in to kiss you. Eddie felt protective and possessive over you in that moment, but he was too stubborn to admit it to himself. You could feel Eddie's eyes burning into you from across the room as they walked off, it made you want to kiss Andy more. “Want to go to mine?” You asked Andy who nodded vigorously. 

You made sure you clocked eyes with Eddie as you led Andy towards the door and into his car. It was very clear you were trying to make him jealous and it was working. 

Eddie was at the bar and watched you getting into his car. Eddie gave it about ten minutes before curiosity took over him, he finished up the drink he had and called it an early night, practically racing back to his car and home. Call him a creep or not but he needed to know what you sounded like beneath him, if you made any of the pretty little noises you made when he was inside you or if he could even make you come. Eddie huffed at his own thoughts, feeling like a perv but nothing could stop him. 

Andy had you bent over your bed when Eddie did pull in. He could hear your moans from outside and he stood near your bedroom window listening to Andy pound into you. Eddie felt sickened, only he should be making you moan like that. Only he should be allowed to touch you, to be allowed inside your body. Andy had twisted his hand round playing with your clit softly, it was enough that it sent you over the edge, coming as he thrusted himself into you chasing his own high. Nobody else besides Eddie had made you come before and you were enjoying his touch - but something just wasn’t as good, Andy made you come but the intensity wasn’t there, did not elicit the same emotion as Eddie. Eddie heard the change in your moan and knew that the younger man had made you come. He retreated to his trailer, annoyed and with an uncomfortable boner. He heard Andy leave and knew that night you weren’t crawling over to him sticky and needy for him. It didn’t sit right with him, you needed to be his and only his. 

You kicked Andy out almost immediately after he left his number on your kitchen table. He tried to hug you goodbye but you recoiled at the touch, realising who you really wanted. Once you showered and changed you ate some leftovers in your kitchen. You lent against the window, spying Eddie in his trailer, beer in hand and the most angered look on his face. He rearranged himself, wincing, clearly hard and uncomfortable. 

Eddie didn’t speak or see you for the next few days. It was probably for the best that he didn't. He was furious and finally came to the conclusion that he couldn’t stay away from you and that something casual wasn’t going to cut it. You were left feeling a little heartbroken, it was the first time in a long time that he hadn’t come over for dinner or his daily check under the hood of your car. You missed him, missed talking to him but also missed his hands all over your body. You had decided to end the not talking and bake him some dinner for him, falling right into what he wanted. You knocked on his door, holding a tray of food, drawing a deep breath as he opened the door. Eddie’s heart skipped a beat when you knocked, he knew you too well to know that you would do this but he was still excited to see you. 

“Hi darlin’” He smirked down at you as he opened the door. 

“Hi, uh, I haven’t seen you for a while so I was worried you hadn’t been eating very well” You gestured to the food and he moved to the side slightly, your body brushing his as you went inside. 

“Always looking after me sweetheart” Eddie's voice was charming and it made you blush as you started plating up the food. 

“Not sure I’m hungry for that right now” Eddie was suddenly inches behind you, hands on your hips, lips kissing the back of your neck. You pushed him back, needing answers. 

“Okay Eddie what the hell. We stopped all of this and then you ignored me for days - whats the go?” You crossed your arms, Eddie’s face changed, and he lent towards you, trapping your bodies together as his hands grabbed the bench behind you. 

“Oh sweetheart, I heard you the other night, screaming your brains out for somebody else, I think you’re doing fine” Eddie’s voice was icy and you scoffed at him.

“What the fuck? We both agreed to screw other people. You’re just jealous that another man can make me come? Is that it Eddie? Scared that somebody is better than you?” You were taunting him and also taken aback he was behaving this way. His hand went up to hold your throat, squeezing as he forced you to look into his eyes. He laughed darkly, his hand slipping into your loose pyjama shorts, happy to find that you weren’t wearing any underwear. 

“Oh I know that I’m still better than him. Yeah maybe I am jealous because this pussy belongs to me now. Nobody else is allowed to make you come, only me” Eddie flicked circles around your clit, you held back a broken moan. 

“You can’t fuck anybody else then, you- fuck- you have to be mine too.” You grinded yourself against his hand. 

“All yours baby, I don’t want anyone else.” Eddie slid two fingers into you and curled them towards him, his thumb rested on your clit as he moved his fingers agonisingly slow. 

“Who do you belong to?” Eddie growled in your ear 

“You, only you” you were breathless, needing him to move his fingers faster. 

“Good girl, come on, I want to hear your pretty moans.” Eddie thrusted his hand deeper and curled  his fingers in and out, his thumb swirling faster on your clit. You moaned as he licked a stripe up your neck and kissed the spot right below your ear. You heard your wetness as he fucked you, fingers not relenting on you. Eddie flattened his hand more, his fingers sliding deeper and palm rubbing against your clit. You felt that familiar flutter in your stomach, your head rolling back and a low moan escaping you. 

“Uh uh sweetheart, you don’t get to come yet. You haven’t earned it.” Eddie tutted and withdrew his hand. You whined against him, hips rutting against nothing. 

“Do you think you’ve earned it after that little show I heard the other night?” Eddie’s hand came down in a stinging slap on your cunt, pulsating right through you. 

“Turn around.” Eddie spun you, pushing your face against the counter and roughly yanking your shorts down. 

“I'm gonna have to remind you who you belong to sweetheart.” Eddie’s jeans were rough against your bare pussy. He quickly pulled out his cock, teasing it through your wet folds, you shuddered at the feeling. 

Eddie pushed inside you slowly, the stretch burning you as you mumbled mindlessly at Eddie. His hands tangled in your hair, pulling you up against his back, his face nuzzled into your neck as he thrusted hard and deep into you. His hand travelled to your neck, gripping tight and pulling your head back as far as it could to look at him. 

“You look so fucked out sweeheart, wish you could see how desperate you look right now. And all for me. Hmm, you’re just my personal little slut.” Eddie was always a bit  rougher during sex but nothing like this, the way he spoke was only making you more soaked as he tunnelled into you. He angled his hips lower and drove his cock into your g-spot, your legs buckled beneath him, moaning loudly suddenly overwhelmed with pleasure you felt the simmer in your stomach rising. 

“Eddie, can I please come?” You whined, panting against the counter. 

“No, not yet” Eddie stopped and pulled out of you, hooking his arm around you and pulling you onto his lap on the couch. 

“You’re going to show me just how much you’ve earned it.” Eddie smacked your ass, prompting you to raise your hips from his and slam yourself down onto his dick. Eddie groaned as your pace quickened, your wetness gathering at the base of his dick. You grabbed Eddie’s hands and guided them to your boobs, he squeezed and you moaned his name, he growled beneath you feeling you clench around him. You bounced on him, breathless and needy to come but never quite reaching the high until you could tell Eddie was getting close, his breath becoming ragged and chest flushing as you rode him. 

He flipped you onto your back on his couch, holding your legs to your chest as he slid back into you, he felt bigger like this, everything was more intense. His thumb went to your clit rubbing as you watched his dick slide in and out of you, unable to look away. 

“Come on baby, I want you to come for me” Eddie cooed down at you, smirking at your fucked out state. Eddie snapped his hips angle so each thrust hit your g-spot deliciously. Your breath became ragged and a strangled moan escaped your lips at his hardest thrust, you felt yourself gush onto his dick, the wet sounds filling the room. 

“EddieEddieEddie” you moaned over and over as Eddies thrusts became sloppy and he pulled you closer, a harsh groan falling from his lips. 

“Want me to fill you full of my come darlin’?” You looked up at Eddie with doe eyes and nodded, biting your lip. It sent Eddie over the edge as he came, squeezing your neck tight before collapsing on top of you. 

You both cleaned up and sat at his table having a drink and eating the dinner you brought over. Eddie couldn’t stop smiling at you. 

“Sweetheart, I’m sorry I ignored you the way I did. It just hit me how much I like you and I was struggling to accept it. It’s one thing to sleep with someone so much younger but I want something more with you, if-if thats what you want.” Eddie looked anxious as the confession fell from his lips. You tucked a piece of hair behind his ear and grabbed his hand to hold it. 

“I want something more too.” you whispered before kissing him slowly, tongue invading his mouth as you pulled him closer. 

“I’m yours and you are mine” Eddie whispered before kissing you deeply.

[megamindsecretlair]

What You Deserve, Part 3

Pairing: Big Stunna x Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Toxic filth. Infidelity. PWP, cursing, PIV, oral (male receiving) , fingering (female receiving) teasing, cum play, dirty talk, praise kink, Daddy kink, dick worship, all consensual.

Summary: After finding some damning evidence against your husband, you can't help wallowing. You fall into a bit of a spiral, wondering what your next move should be. Sometimes, you just need a little Stunna to make things better.

Word Count: 4,649k

Part 1 | Part 2

A/N: Listen, I know. Idk why this took so long to write. I think I'm still pleasantly traumatized from Watchmen. IYKYK. Please consider commenting and reblogging to save a writer's life. It's important for their enrichment.

Taglist: @planetblaque @blackerthings @melaninpov @browngirldominion @we-outsiiiide @thecookiebratz @iv0rysoap @notapradagurl7 @sevikasblackgf @miyuhpapayuh @xo-goldengirl @kindofaintrovert @flydotty @judymfmoody @slippinninque @soufcakmistress @henneseyhoe @westside-rot @twocentuar @blackpinup22 @babybratzmaraj @theyscreamsannii @kiabialia @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @nworbaij @hopefulromantic1 @lesbiantreehugger @longpause-awkwardsmile @badassdoll @kholdkill @cardi-bre91 @jay-mach @sageispunk @ciaqui @yourofficialgal @harmshake @amethyst09 @satoruya @theunsweetenedtruth

By the time you were done tearing through your bedroom and home office, you started to feel like a lunatic somewhere between pulling out drawers and flipping over couch cushions. You weren’t sure why, but finding the phone unlocked some kind of jealousy streak in you. You were obsessed. 

You knew what the deal was, but your husband was logical. You honestly thought he’d be too boring to cheat. And cheat with who? He was always at work and he didn’t have any female secretaries. That was a condition of you agreeing to become a stay at home mom. You didn’t want him bringing home any cooties.

And yet he did anyway. You had no room to judge. You had let Stunna in twice now. You took that man home and let him do filthy things to you. The petty side of you, however, rationalized that your husband stepped out first. Even if he bought the second phone a day ago, a week ago, or a year ago, he made that decision first. He chose someone else while you were at home raising his kids. 

And that burned. It burned like acid, clawing its way up your chest and burrowing deep inside. Baby Hands had the nerve to cheat on you? With his disproportionate body, small hands, small teeth, and ugly ass personality? 

You rubbed your head and sat down on the lone couch cushion you hadn’t flipped over yet. Good thing the asshole was gone for two weeks and you had time to put things back to sorts. It was driving you insane looking for…what?

Proof? Wasn’t the second phone enough? 

No. Anyone could excuse a second phone for work. Especially with the way that he worked in finance. He was constantly on call, working on huge contracts that required his attention. You’d caught him a few times in the office, pouring over documents and speaking gibberish. He had those calls on speaker and you heard him talking to a man. 

Unless your husband was secretly gay, you didn’t know where he found the energy or time to cheat. And how dare he bring that shit home to you! He hadn’t touched you in going on a year now. 

That was no excuse to cheat yourself, but shit. You were still sexy. You were still worthy of desire. Stunna taught you that. 

After you found the phone three nights ago, you hadn’t had the time to text Stunna. He texted you, telling you that he missed you. He was even on his best behavior. Nothing freaky or nasty. Just…wanted to see how your day was going. It was cute and touching. But right now, you wanted hellfire and brimstone. 

You rubbed your head once more, trying to figure out places where you wouldn’t look. It had to be somewhere your husband frequented that you didn’t bother with. When he was home, he was either crashing into bed or firing away at his laptop. 

“Mommy?” Noah asked. 

You looked up at Noah standing in the doorway with his sister peeking out next to him. It will always melt your heart the way the twins held onto each other like best friends. You knew that when they got older and developed more individuality, these days would seem like the distant past. 

“Yes, baby?” You asked. Embarrassment flooded through you. They shouldn’t see you like this. Falling apart because of a damn phone. 

“Are you playing hide and seek by yourself?” Noah asked, a small toothless grin on his face.

You chuckled. “Now, why would I do that when I have two of the best players in the house?” You asked. 

The twins grinned. “It’s messy in here!” Naomi said.

“Yes, baby, it’s messy in here,” you said. You looked over the office. It looked like a tornado had thrown up here. 

“Daddy doesn’t like it when it’s messy,” Naomi chimed in. “He says everything important has a place.” Naomi puffed out her cheeks and deepened her voice. Which only made her voice a little less squeaky. 

You laughed and shook your head. Leave it to your kids to get your head out of your ass. “You’re absolutely right. It’s sunny outside, what are you doing inside the house?” You asked.

You stood up and corralled your kids to soak up the sun, telling them how beautiful their skin is. You told them that the sun loves them so much, it gave them beautiful, dark skin to protect themselves. But that did absolutely mean they should be outside.

They ran into the backyard giggling. You watched as they tossed a ball back and forth, making up some kind of game you never knew the rules to. As you watched, you thought over what Naomi said. 

Your husband did say that a lot. He was the type to have all his little ducks in a row. Including his cheating apparently. Had you not found his phone by accident, who knew how long he would have gone on with it. Months? Years? Would you have woken up some time, sixteen years later to find out that he had an entire other family? 

You shivered. You did not want to end up like one of those true crime shows. Where you found out he was cheating and he offed you to be with his other baby mama. It was sickening. The not knowing was eating you alive. 

While the kids’ laughter filled your ears, you went back into the office. You headed for the file cabinet and flipped through his receipts. He kept copies of everything for at least three years and then routinely shredded them when he was sure that they were no longer needed. 

He had folders for everything, neatly lined up. You took out a huge stack from a few months ago. Mortgage, bills, groceries, and the like were all neatly stacked away. Including…extra expenses. 

You took out that folder and flipped through it. There were receipts from lingerie places. Expensive lingerie. Bracelets, necklaces…your husband was a regular fucking Santa Claus. You read over some of the pieces, things he’d stopped buying you years ago. After the kids.

Tears blurred your vision as you saw just how busy your man had been. So much for that. No wonder he didn’t want to touch you anymore. He found some floosy to bend over backwards. Keeping himself in shape? All for her. And not for the woman he fucking married. 

You let the tears fall, mourning for the marriage and life you thought you were living. You became complacent, allowing yourself to routinely get played. For what? For what?

You felt like screaming. You felt like dropping your kids off at your parents’ and showing up in Miami ready to catch a case. The love died a long time ago. It was the audacity. Because you were still fine as hell. And he was a fuck nigga for trying to dim your shine. Whoever he was with paled in comparison to you. 

You took pictures of all of the receipts in case his ass wanted to come home lying. You were going to the bank in the morning to get more financial records to bury his ass. Dumb ass. For all his self-importance, he forgot who the fuck he married.

You looked around the office, thinking of the house in general. You were going to clean that man out of everything he fucking owned. 

Hurt, pissed off, confused, you stood up and left the room, closing the door to the nonsense. You had kids to look after and make sure they didn’t miss their father’s absence too much. 

You tried to resist, but really, was there any point anymore? While the kids were away the next day, you called Stunna. He was the remedy you needed. You didn’t know what divine intervention placed him in your path or made you take him home. But you thanked the universe and grabbed hold with both hands. 

Stunna arrived promptly at noon, showing up looking exquisite in dark gray sweats and a blood red orange T-shirt. It should have looked funny, but on him, he just looked fine as hell. He was rubbing his hands when you opened the door and his face split into an open grin showing off a row of grills that flashed. 

You had answered the door in your robe, the silky lavender one. You were surprised it still fit, but you weren’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. The material looked amazing against your skin and you felt sexy, wild, and free while you wore it. It could also be because you weren’t wearing anything underneath it. 

Stunna’s eyes immediately traced your body and you felt it like a physical caress. You pulled him inside, locking the door behind you. Stunna was right there, pushing you against the door. 

“Fuck I missed you,” he said, his deep groan sending all kinds of shivers throughout your body. 

“I missed you,” you said. You grinned, looking up at his tall frame. 

“Hmm, how much you miss me?” He asked. He brought up one of his fingers to your chin, lifting it, to stare deeper into his molten brown eyes. His other hand traveled south, trailing down between your breasts and further still. That hand lifted the hem of your short robe, fingers rubbing against your exposed thighs.

Your legs tingled, feeling like he had more than two hands. You felt him everywhere, all at once. It was insane to want him as badly as you did. It had nothing to do with your husband. It had nothing to do with finding out that that bastard had been cheating for way longer than you thought.

You wanted to feel sexy again. Feel like you were capable of driving someone insane with lust. You hated to admit it but…fuck, your confidence was shot. You spent the whole night last night, crying into your glass of wine feeling rejected by your own damn husband. As much as you tried to talk a big game, you just felt ugly.

And the one person who didn’t make you feel ugly at the moment was the gorgeous man before you. 

He licked his lips slow, a tiny peek at his pink tongue swiping across his juicy lips. His eyes softened a fraction, while his hand slipped between your legs. Finding no barrier, he hummed low in his throat. His fingers eagerly searched through your folds, finding you wet and dripping already.

The anticipation while you got ready made you feel like a younger version of yourself. Back to your early days when you were invincible and no one could tell you a damn thing. 

“All wet and pretty for me, huh?” He asked. There was something so naughty about the way words dropped from his lips. He could say the most innocent sentence and make it sound salacious. 

You nodded, pouting, and turning doe eyes to him. He slipped one long, rough finger inside you and you hissed, arching your back against the door. Your hands came up to grip his shoulders for purchase. 

The finger he held under your chin dropped and he leaned on that arm against the door. His hand was massive next to your head. His breathing grew labored as if he were the one being driven to the height of pleasure.

You’d known him for such a short while and yet he knew you so well. Knew what you needed. Knew what you craved. He stared into your eyes, brows furrowed in concentration, while he continued to finger fuck you. He pushed his finger up to the knuckle and rubbed deep within you, making your knees buckle and your toes curl. 

“You ain’t been takin’ care of yourself,” he said. It wasn’t a question but you shook your head anyway. Between finding the phone and getting the kids together for their play and tearing through the house like a madwoman, you didn’t have time for anything. 

Stunna leaned down and pressed a hot, wet kiss to your lips. He lingered a little while he increased his pace.

“I won’t tease you too bad today, then,” he said. He flipped his wrist over and then made a “come hither” motion, rubbing right against your sweet spot. You began to whine and moan, shaking against the doorway. 

He didn’t let up and didn’t change his pace, stroking you without mercy until you were falling apart on his fingers. Soaking them. You dripped down your thigh and fell against him, your cheek resting against his broad chest.

He kissed your forehead and you sunk even further into him. You didn’t have to worry if he’d catch you or not. He was simply there. An immovable rock that you so desperately needed.

You were floating in an afterglow, but almost immediately, ugly thoughts reared in your head. Thoughts tumbled one right after the other about how your marriage was ruined. You were going to have to break up your family and figure out custody.

Your husband was going to be a dick about the whole thing. Especially when he’d been an absentee father even while in the house. To your kids, their dad was just some man who bought them things on birthdays and holidays. He was never there. And yet, it would crush them all the same not living in the same house with him. 

Tears gathered in your eyes. Fuck, this was a huge mistake. A glaring mistake that you should not have done. You should not have called Stunna. Least of all Stunna. So what…you could use him to make yourself feel pretty? 

God. You were embarrassing. You moved away from Stunna but he held on, trying to look you in the eye. You avoided looking at him, clinging to him since he wasn’t going to let you go.

“What’s wrong?” He asked.

You shook your head. Your throat began to ache. Too clogged with racing thoughts and conflicting emotions. You were horny, confused, pissed off, elated. Fuck. You were a proper fucking mess and the least sexy thing in the room at the moment. 

“Um, maybe you should go,” you whispered. You didn’t want to ruin his shirt. You made to move again and Stunna leaned back, looking into your glistening eyes.

“Naw, tell me what’s wrong. Did I hurt you?” He asked.

“No!” You said. You shut that shit down. He’d been nothing but wonderful and awesome to you. Dropping everything just to come over and fuck you. You were the messed up one. And it wasn’t polite to talk to your sneaky link about your crumbling marriage. 

Stunna took your hand and led you to the couch. He sat down, spreading his long legs. He pulled you to sit on his lap, curling in close. You rested your head on his shoulder and he idly rubbed your back. 

“Tell me what’s wrong,” he said.

“It’s nothing, I promise,” you sniffled. You wanted to get up and be a big girl. But he was so warm and soft. He smelled faintly like fresh bread and you wondered what he’d been up to all day. Or the past few days. 

You wanted to know everything about him. How he spent his time, what he thought about. You wanted to listen to his voice recite the most beautiful and heartbreaking poetry. 

Stunna kissed your forehead. “You can talk to me about anything. Even if it’s about your husband. That nigga don’t scare me,” he said.

You chuckled. But you also shook your head. That wasn’t…proper, right? There was something off about that. Then again, you were in your home snuggled up with a man that wasn’t your husband. 

Pot meet kettle. Your thoughts were still jumbled. You wanted to slunk off to be miserable somewhere. You didn’t want Stunna to see you like this. It was too early into…whatever this was. 

“You can’t scare me away, you know,” Stunna said softly. His fingers worked magic on your body, relaxing you inch by inch. You felt drowsy in his arms. Protected. 

You sighed. Fuck it. You were already crying and snotting all over him. You couldn’t get any lower from here. You laid out everything for him. How the two of you met. When you were both young and had an insatiable thirst for life. 

How kids were too far in the future, something to happen later. Only later happened much quicker. When you found out you were having twins, you’d never seen your husband so animated. He went crazy. Bought all the baby name books to pick out two cute names. While you were craving weird shit or crying for the millionth time, your husband would plot out your entire future. 

Sports events, plays, raising them together. Yet, after you had them, he was still sweet. But began drifting away. He got too serious. Too caught up in the fact that you had to buy two of everything. Double the diapers. Double the clothes and shoes. Double the toys.

Finances nearly drove you two apart. Until he got in with his company and quickly promoted. Working overtime to keep a roof over your heads and his kids fed. Keeping you secure became the ultimate goal and somewhere along the way, that initial fire died out. Wasn’t even a candle anymore.

You weren’t sure who the fuck you married. Certainly not someone who cheated so fucking easily. Who risked his life as well as yours. Your tests came back negative, thank god, but considering he hadn’t touched you in forever, you were pretty sure you were safe. Besides, you already let Stunna nut in you. 

Unburdening yourself felt good. You had become too isolated in this house. Feeling like you were in a tomb. You and your thoughts echoing in the silent chamber until you were driven mad with loneliness. It felt good being this close to someone again.  

You sighed against Stunna. “Thank you. I don’t know how I can ever repay you,” you said. 

Stunna kissed your forehead. “You don’t ever have to repay me. I’m sorry your bitch ass husband is doing this to you. You too pretty to ever cry,” he said. 

You giggled. “You are too good to my ego,” you said. 

Stunna chuckled, his hands tracing random patterns on your back. “You good for mine too,” he said.

You turned your head to look at him. He looked so innocent sitting there, like there were no thoughts behind those pretty eyes. But the more you stared, the more his eyes seemed to narrow like he was seeing straight to your soul. It was scary as hell, but also a huge turn on. 

Maybe all you needed was a sounding board. Someone to not make you feel so crazy. As you told him the whole sordid affair, he acknowledged that you weren’t tripping. That no, that bum ass nigga was likely cheating and you deserved so much better. 

You tucked those words away into your heart and vowed to cherish them forever. For now…

You grinned and slid off of his lap. He looked at you curiously while you reached for his sweats, pulling them down and freeing his girthy dick.

Fuck he was huge. Thick. The fat head twitching a bit. You licked your lips. You loved making him squirm. 

You licked the tip of his dick, tasting his salty precum. You moaned at the taste, diving in for more and more like you were licking an ice cream cone. He was so large, that you had to fist him to hold him still while you sucked him down.

“Fuuck,” he groaned. His hands flew to your head, digging in for purchase. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” 

You grinned, suckling him back down. He twitched more in your hands. You worshiped his dick. Knelt at the offering of a god. You sucked and moaned around his dick, applying pressure in alternating waves that made his knees jump. 

His tug at your scalp turned painful, but fuck, it only turned you on more. You loved to please him. To accept him into your mouth and wrap your lips around his fat dick. You drooled, gathering up your saliva to use your hands where your mouth couldn’t reach. You could only take him so far.

Stunna let out a low, tortured groan before unleashing his cum. You drank it all down, sliding the heady concoction down your throat. 

Stunna huffed, panting, looking at you like you were the most precious thing in the world. How were you ever going to keep your hands off of him now?

It was like your husband cheating was exactly the excuse you needed. Asking for a divorce because you were bored or felt unloved was a stupid ass excuse. But asking for a divorce because his lying ass was cheating and you had receipts was the cherry on the cake. 

Stunna grinned, pulling his shirt off and revealing his muscled chest. You whined, running your hands across the planes of his abs. He helped you out of the robe and then he stood up. He shed his shoes and pants, discarding it all into a pile next to the couch.

He pushed you down, face on the couch and ass in the air. He played with your pussy, getting you nice and wet before he was stroking inside, working his dick in.

You whined and moaned, throwing your hand back against his chest. “Fu-too big!” You screamed.

It was one thing trying to get that animal into your mouth. Another entirely to slide inside you. He growled, rubbing your clit. You jerked forward, falling face forward onto the couch.

He gripped your wrists in one hand, pinning it to the top of your ass. “I already nutted in this pussy once so I know you can take it. That shit don’t work no more,” he growled low, filling up the living room and yet making it feel small. Intimate.

He kissed along your back and rubbed furiously at your clit, making you gush around his dick. “That’s it. Let Daddy in,” Stunna moaned.

Fuck, you moaned too. “Oh shit, fuck me,” you cried out. 

“Don’t worry, I know exactly what to do,” he said. You could picture him biting his lip while he increased his thrusts. 

Your voice was muffled against the couch cushion, but you were screaming as he slid in more easily. Somehow, your pussy adjusted to the size of him and he moved like this was his last night on Earth. 

You had no way to push against him since he trapped your wrists. “Fu-fuck, Daddy. Fuck, Daddy,” you moaned.

“Yuh, let me hear it,” he moaned.

You were careening head first into another orgasm, shutting your eyes to the sheer onslaught of pleasure. He still kept up his pace while playing with your clit. You were tag teamed for explosive pleasure.

Another orgasm snuck up on the heels of the second. You were beyond words. Beyond sounds. Just rough exclamations leaving your mouth as he pounded into you like you stole something. 

Shit, maybe you did with the way he was fucking you. 

“Don’t get quiet now, baby. Let me hear it. Sing for me, baby,” he groaned.

“Stunna-fuck! Feel so good, so good. So good, so good,” you couldn’t stop chanting. He did feel so amazing. Fucking you deep. You didn’t know how he went through life with that big dick and didn’t tilt over. 

Maybe that was why he was so damn tall. He needed to be in order to balance that monster. 

Stunna withdrew his fingers, slapping your ass. It was a wet, loud smack that made you groan. “Do it again, Daddy. Spank that ass,” you moaned.

“Fuck, tell me what you need, baby,” Stunna said.

“You. You. Just you,” you drooled onto the couch.

“Give me one more so I can nut deep in this pussy,” Stunna said. He pushed your body down until you were nearly flat against the cushion. He raised your hips, finding a way to get even deeper.

His dick completely filled you up. You felt possessed. Owned. Suffocated with his dick. 

“Stunna, please–I–” You didn’t think you could cum again. You were going to have to replace the couch cushions or something. You felt it getting wetter by the minute. Your essence dripped down your leg.

“When I tell you to do something, you fuckin’ do it,” Stunna growled.

You exploded. You screamed out in pleasure, throat raw from the effort. You gripped his dick with your pussy, fighting to keep him inside while you were breaking apart. 

He groaned and then he was nutting in you once more. Your pussy throbbed and twitched in time with his pulsing dick and your eyes rolled back into your head. You saw stars exploding behind your eyelids. 

Stunna let go of your wrists. You tried to lift yourself up from the couch, but you were weak as hell. 

Stunna slowly pulled out so that he didn’t hurt you. You groaned all the same. He truly was too damn big to be whipping that shit like he was. It was a wonder that he didn’t have a million baby mamas stashed all over the city. 

How the fuck anyone let that man out the house was a mystery. He definitely needed to be tied up in the basement for your pleasure and your pleasure only. You smiled thinking of such a thing.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he said. He kissed your forehead. You melted. Kissing your forehead after some nasty ass shit only made you want to sink into the cushion and never come back up for air.

“Go run yo ass a bath. I’ll get dinner going,” he said.

“But–”

“Do what Daddy tell you,” he said, his voice rough and accepting no arguments. He leaned over you, planting kisses all over your face until you were squealing your assent.

“Okay, okay!” You screamed. 

You didn’t call him over so that he could cook dinner for your family. It didn’t seem right that he cooked it and never got to eat it.

But if you were going to divorce the kids’ father, you didn’t need to bring Stunna around them. As a fun “uncle” or not. No, you needed the divorce to be as clean as you could make it. In the sense that your kids wouldn’t know that you were about to snatch their father through the mud and back out the other side.

You drowsily got to your feet, legs wobbling. Stunna moaned and smacked your ass. “Don’t take too long or else I’ll have to come find you,” he warned.

You winked at him as you sauntered towards the stairs. “Don’t threaten me with a good time,” you said. 

Stunna chuckled, crossing over to you in one long stride. He gripped both sides of your face, pulling you into a deep, passionate kiss. If your legs were weak before, you damn sure couldn’t walk now.

He pulled back slowly, eyes still closed. You watched as he slowly opened them. “Everything is going to work out. If you need me, call me. I have no issues taking care of your husband.”

You knew he meant murder and that thought should terrify you. He was shitty sure, but you didn’t want your kids to grow up with a dead father. That was a different can of worms. Best for them to see who their dad really was.

You leaned up and kissed him one more time. “I know where to find you. Thank you,” you said. 

Sometimes, that was really all it took. Someone telling you that everything was going to be okay. Whether it was a lie or not, didn’t matter.

Daddy said it would be okay. And so it would be.

There's always more to love!

The Secret Big Stunna Files | Part 1 | Part 2

[itjazzbicch]

Secret Confession

Pairing:  Monkey D. Luffy x Reader 

First time writing for Luffy, so I hope I did well! 

Summary: Getting up for a late-night snack with Luffy, they get nearly get caught by Sanji, who always yells at fluffy for sneaking in the fridge at night, hiding together, and learning how close they are while enjoying a late-night snack on the Sunny...

Warnings:  Slight Swearing (That's about it!)

Word Count: .8k 

"Luffy, is that you?" Yawning and rubbing my eyes while making my way to the kitchen, I could hear his stomach rumbling, his eyes still closed as he nodded, walking into the kitchen and mumbling:

"I'm hungryyyy."

"Me too," I yawned, following in behind him, seeing him trying to budge the fridge open, but Sanji had put a lock on it just because of Luffy:

"Why does Sanji have to do this to me?!"

"Shhh," I hushed, stepping up and unlocking the fridge, "Sanji will be pissed if he knows I let you in the fridge, so try to stay quiet."

"Okay," He whispered, giggling and rummaging through the fridge, exclaiming, "You're the best, Y/N! There's so much yummy food in here!"

"Luffy!" I scolded quietly, "I said be qui-"

"LUFFY! IF YOU'RE IN THE KITCHEN EATING ALL THE FOOD, I SWEAR TO GOD!"

Just great, Sanji was awake.

I stared at Luffy with fire in my eyes, "Just great. He's going to flip on us."

"Not if he doesn't know where we are," He laughed, shoving the food into my hands before wrapping up with his rubber arm, "Hold on to that with your life, got it?"

"Huh?" Seized in his arm, Luffy took off and out of the kitchen before Sanji could get there, jumping to the deck, his free arm shooting up to the crow's nest, making me squeal as we flung to the top:

"WOAH!"

"Shhh!" Luffy was one to try and silence me, eyes peeking over the crow's nest to see Sanji searching for him:

"Got damn it, Luffy! Just wait till I find you!"

Slouching back against the floor, Luffy giggled, taking the food from my arms, "He didn't see us. We're in the clear."

"For now," I huffed, staring at the dark sky till he held a piece of meat over my face, mumbling out of his full mouth:

"You said you were hungry, right?"

"Yeah, thanks," I smiled tiredly, taking the meat and chowing it down with him.

"It's good, right?" Luffy smiled at me, sitting up as Sanji was gone now, devouring the food we took.

"Really good," I yawned, relaxing back as just that one piece of meat satisfied my hunger, staring at the full, bright moon as Luffy laid back with me, shivering slightly at the wind passing by, freezing as I felt Luffy's arm around me, sliding closer to me.

I stared at him, a bit confused, and he tilted his head at me, confused himself as he asked:

"What? You were shivering, so I thought you were cold."

"It is a little chilly," I swallowed, looking back up to the sky, "I just want to enjoy the view for a moment."

"Enjoy it," He nodded, looking at me and keeping me close, "And I'll keep you warm till you're done."

Never in a million years did I imagine that someone would make me feel so flustered, let alone that specific someone being my captain! Although, he was warm and oblivious as always when he saw the flustered look on my face:

"The cold getting you sick or something? Why are you making that face?"

"No, Luffy," I sighed, nervous and whispering, "You realize we're practically cuddling, right?"

"Do you not like cuddles?" I only kept on confusing him. It wasn’t that I didn’t like cuddles; I was just so nervous; trying to explain to him:

"I just-I never-"

I had never been in a situation like this, and his goofy but pure ways made me smile as he gasped:

"Oh, you don't know how! It's easy!"

Fixing me against his chest, our legs intertwining, he showed that he had no idea what he was doing by whispering under his breath:

"At least, I think that's how you're supposed to cuddle."

"It's fine," I smiled at him softly, that bright smile of his making me happy like it always did, my heart skipping beats as he placed his hand on my head, keeping it against his chest and playing with my hair, whispering:

"Now, you can enjoy the moon and stay warm."

"Thank you, Luffy," I whispered, curling up against him, staring at the moon, and my brain flooded with thoughts and emotions I never felt before.

Why did I feel happier than ever right now? So peaceful and content? Why did I not want to leave Luffy's arms? I started to realize what I was feeling, and it was a lot to process because Luffy wasn't just anyone; he was my captain.

"Hey, Luffy-" I was going to attempt to maybe talk to him about how I felt, but when I picked up my head, he was fast asleep, snoring, and he looked so adorable.

I didn't want to disrupt his peace, laying back against his chest, whispering even though I knew he couldn't hear me:

"I love you." 

2023 © itjazzbicch — do not repost or translate my work. Likes, reblogs, and comments are always welcome. 

[badwritinghabit]

Hello and Goodbye (part 2) | Chef Luca x fem!Reader

Previous Chapter

Warnings: Explicit smut (mdni!). Specifically oral (reader receiving) and vaginal sex, along with some minor pinning down/controlling vibes but still very sweet with lots of checking in.

Word Count: 2,835

Summary: You and Luca go on a date and reflect on the past. Then you take him home with you.

Author's Note: I was torn in a few different directions so I just wrote what felt right-- some fluffy nonsense and then smut. I am tempted to go back and write a one or two chapter prequel with some cheesy romance between younger Luca and reader from what I hinted at in the start of this chapter. Let me know if you'd be interested! Probably wouldn't be smut, just a fluff/idiots in love type story.

Months. Luca was going to stay in Chicago for months. The words hadn’t left your head since Luca had said them. You’d left the party with him, feeling floaty and light. The street lights, the far off sound of music pouring through an open window, Luca’s fingers threaded through yours.  Chicago didn’t usually feel romantic. It felt like work and school and trudging through the snow on January mornings. But that night, Chicago felt like the warm and fuzzy moment in a romantic comedy. When the main characters had reached the end of the story and had fallen in love, for real this time. And the feeling followed you home as Luca walked you to your apartment. When you unlocked the front door, he stopped you with a gentle tug on your wrist. You’d wanted to invite him up but he had leaned forward, pressed a kiss to your lips, and said he wanted to take you on a date. 

He was being sweet.

Now you’re sitting in a bar. It is next to the apartment you lived in years ago, when you and Luca had worked together. The bar had changed ownership at least once but Luca had insisted that you go check it out, for old times sake.

Luca reaches a hand over the table and grabs yours. He trails his thumb lightly across your palm, again and again. Calming and sweet. He doesn’t even seem to be thinking about it particularly, his other hand setting his pint glass down on the table after taking a drink.

“I don’t know if I like it as much anymore,” you say, as you look around the bar again, voice quiet so as to not be heard by any of the bartenders. 

Luca smiles and raises his eyebrows questioningly. “It’s cleaner.” 

You laugh. “It is cleaner. But it doesn’t feel the same anymore. I don’t think they’d let us stay until 3 am playing cards like the old days.”

“Probably not,” he agrees, his thumb still tracing your hand. “I was surprised they let us do that in the first place. I think they only let us because of you.” 

“Me?”

“You underestimate yourself. You had everyone wrapped around your finger back then,” he says. His tone is light but your heart speeds up at his heated eye contact. 

“I think you might be misremembering things,” you demur, flipping your hands on the table so that yours is on top and curling your fingers into his so that you are holding hands. 

He hums and shakes his head. “Remember when you stopped us from betting money on cards? You had us flicking each other’s foreheads when we lost.” He was smirking.

“Everyone loved that! It was fun. And we weren’t wasting money,” you defend yourself, face heating as he chuckles at your insistence. 

“Part of the fun is wasting money, love.” 

You feel your chest tighten at his use of love. “I was just being the responsible one. Someone needed to be!” 

He laughs again and squeezes your hand. “I liked it.”

You squint at him suspiciously and he just chuckles. 

“I did. Everyone did. You had us all charmed. I’m just saying, you could have convinced us lads to do anything.” 

You roll your eyes, unsure how to respond. It was a good group, you’d connected quickly and had spent an awful lot of time together outside of work. You had been too focused on him back then to really pay attention to how the other’s treated you. You don’t dwell on it, instead you brush your thumb against Luca’s and challenge him to a thumb war. He grins and immediately accepts. Unfortunately, his hand is much larger and you are quickly overpowered.

“You cheated,” you grumble. 

“How did I cheat?” 

“Your hands are too big. You have a longer thumb-span.” He laughs at that and goes back to tracing his thumb over the soft skin on your palm. “And you said I had you charmed. You didn’t even let me win.” 

He leans forward over the small table and your eyes briefly dip down as his elbow comes to rest on the table. The dark button up shirt he is wearing looks smooth in the dimmed light of the bar. His sleeves are rolled up from earlier in the evening and your eyes are drawn to his arms. His movement causes the warm, slightly woody smell of his cologne to wash over you. You meet his eyes again and he’s smirking at you, as if he could read your mind. 

“Did you want me to let you win?” his voice is low and you glance at his lips before you can stop yourself. 

“No,” you blurt quickly. “I take thumb wars seriously.” 

“I admire your competitive spirit.”

You blink at him as he grips your hand again, preparing for another thumb war. His eyes are still locked on yours. You couldn’t help but think he had become too good at flirting since you’d last seen him.

The bartender brings you another drink, and before long you realize it has gotten later than you realized. Luca walks you home, giving you his jacket when he catches you shivering after a gust of wind. 

You hesitate at the door. You stick your keys in the lock, faltering slightly but opening it. “Are you going to come up this time?” you ask, shifting nervously as you stand on your doorstep and turn to look at him.

“I’d like to. If you’ll have me.” 

You smile and grab his wrist to pull him in after you. You unlock the door to your apartment and swing it open, sliding off your shoes as you walk in. You take off the coat he gave you and put it on the hook near your door. Luca follows, looking around your apartment after setting his shoes next to your own. 

“I like the painting,” he starts, “where did you–”. Before he can finish, you’re leaning up and pressing your lips against his. 

When he hesitates, you pull back. “Sorry, I thought–”

And then he is cutting you off, hands on your cheeks as he pulls your mouth back to his. He’s soft and so painfully sweet, your heart skips a beat. His hand slides down, fingers warm against the back of your neck as his thumb presses against your chin. 

You reach up and pull lightly on his collar, urging him closer to you, inviting him to kiss you harder. You open your mouth and his tongue meets yours. Still soft and sweet. After a breath you nip gently at his lower lip and he groans, making you smile.

One of his hands drops and finds your hip, pulling you closer and then sliding up, playing with the hem of your sweater. You undo the top button of his shirt and then the second. You pull back for a breath and his hands are careful, as they slide under your shirt. His eyes never stray from yours, making sure you are okay with him taking the next step. 

“Let’s go to my room,” you breathe. And he follows you down the hall. You pull your sweater off over your head. Before you can unzip your skirt he stops you. 

“Let me take my time,” he says, voice low in your ear. He’s standing behind you. You feel small under him as his hands slide from your hips, upward. You arch back the slightest bit, pressing your ass against him. You hear him exhale harshly and his hand cups your breasts over your bra. He slowly unzips your skirt with his other hand and you stop yourself from whining as you want him to go faster. He seems to notice your impatience. 

“I’ve thought about all of the things I would do if I got another chance with you.” He pinches your nipple between his fingers and you arch again. He keeps talking, his voice and the exquisitely dirty things he says, making you more and more needy. He groans your name.

“Luca. I need-” you say, somewhere between a gasp and a whine. 

“I know.” His voice is low, almost a growl. Him taking control is making your knees quiver. His hand trails down from your chest to your panties, middle finger sliding gently over your center. He presses just the tiniest bit, a teasing pressure against your clit making you grip his wrist. 

“Is this okay?” he asks, staying his hand but not moving away. 

You nod quickly and then say aloud, “yes”. 

“Let me know if you want me to stop, yeah?” 

“I won’t want to stop,” you say immediately. He grins and you feel it as he presses his lips to the column of your throat and nips gently at the sensitive skin. His hand slips inside your underwear, running his finger through your folds. You jolt a little at the sensation and he pulls away gently, pausing to slide your underwear down your legs. 

“You’re still dressed,” you say, suddenly self conscious. He finishes unbuttoning his shirt and your eyes drop and trace the smooth, chiseled lines of his chest. Your eyes trail along his tattoos and you reach out to the touch one on his shoulder. 

He presses you forward and you lay back onto your bed. He unbuckles his belt and slides his pants to the floor. He is left in his underwear as he leans over you. He presses his lips to your neck and then chest, mouth going lower and lower.  

He kisses the curve of your stomach, pressing his lips gently across your hip. He bites the soft skin at the point your thigh meets your hip and your leg flexes involuntarily. 

He’s teasing you. Your breath exhales in a whine as he moves across to your other hip, not paying any attention where you need him most. 

“Luca,” you say as his teeth gently mark your skin. You twitch, moving your hips closer to his face. 

“What is it?” he asks, still not giving you what you want. 

“Please,” you gasp. And then his fingers are spreading your folds and his tongue is gentle against your clit. You nearly sob, a choked breath exhaling at the relief. He slides a finger inside, and adds another, you breathe in, not even realizing how empty you felt until he was there. His tongue keeps a steady pressure with his soft licks as he starts pumping his fingers in and out. 

You��re trying not to buck too hard into his mouth. He presses an arm against your thigh to keep you open for him and something about his casual control makes your heart pound harder. 

He doesn’t stop the perfect drag of his tongue on your clit, even as you plummet over the edge, gasping his name. His fingers glide against your sensitive walls until you buck away, overstimulated from his ministrations.

He slides his fingers from inside of you and crawls up to lay beside you. You blink up into his eyes, catching your breath as you watch him. His hand is gently stroking up and down your side, as if helping calm your body after your orgasm. You lean forward and pull his face to yours, kissing him hard. 

“I have condoms,” you say as you pull back to catch your breath. He sits up and grabs his own from a wallet beside his bed. 

You watch as he slides his boxers over his hips and he catches your eyes, grinning at you teasingly for having caught you checking him out. He’s already slid the condom on and before he can say something to tease you, you climb into his lap. His eyes widen in surprise but he grips your hips and helps you stabilize yourself on top of him.

You kiss him as your hand slides down his chest, fingers trailing across the firm heat of his chest, downwards. You feel him twitch in your hand as you grasp his cock and press yourself down onto him, slowly. You groan at the feel of him, leaning forward and pressing your forehead against his.

The feeling of him inside you is divine– hot and hard and the perfect stretch. You breathe shallowly as you lower yourself fully onto him. 

He gives you a moment, not moving as he feels you squeeze around him torturously. He presses kisses to your neck, soft and sweet. After a few breaths, he reaches up and runs his hand through your hair before gently grabbing it at the base of your neck in his fist and tugging lightly. Your thighs clench reflexively and you meet his eyes. 

“Are you still feeling good, sweetheart?”

“Yeah,” you breathe out. “Sorry, just adjusting.”

“No apologizing,” he admonishes gently, cupping your cheek. “You feel so good,” he says, “better than I remembered.” He says your name in a sigh as you clench around him, his other hand gripping your hip a little more tightly. “I’ve thought about you a lot,” he continues, voice low. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you.” 

You press your lips to his for a quick kiss then move your hips up. The feeling of him moving inside of you forces you to take a breath and you pull back, mouth open. 

“So pretty,” he says, watching you arch on top of him, his hand moving from your hips to your ass, squeezing before pulling you to him a little as he lifts his hips under you. You gasp as he presses even deeper inside you. You speed up your movement on top of him as he starts to meet your hips. 

He feels your legs shake after he thrusts again and he wraps an arm around your waist and rolls you over, his other arm propping himself up over you. He thrusts slowly at first but increases the pace until you are gripping his shoulders, legs locked around him, heels pressed into the heated skin of his lower back.

You reach a hand up to hold onto his wrist resting near your head. He immediately grips your hand, entwining your fingers with his and pressing your hand to the bed. You arch up and he shifts and grabs your other hand as well, pushing it up by the other and pinning both to the bed. He meets your eyes to make sure you’re okay and you immediately nod, gasping out his name and pressing your hips up to meet his again.

You exhale as he presses his hips all the way against yours in one smooth motion. Then he is pounding into you, little exhaled sighs leave your lips with each thrust. You’re stretched full and the force has you just on the edge of pain. Every stroke your clit rubs against his pelvis and you feel yourself get close again. 

He’s coaxing you to another orgasm, his thrusts hard and deep and hitting all of the right places.

You only catch a few of the things he says to you as he pushes you closer and closer to the edge-- 

“Fuck, can you hear how wet you are?”

“So good for me.”

“I want you to let go. Come on, pretty girl.”  

“Luca,” you say his name, eyes locked on his for a second before they slam shut as you tumble over the edge of your second orgasm. You arch up, twisting lightly in his hold and he continues to press into you, holding your wrists down as he fucks you through the waves of pleasure. After a few more thrusts his hips stutter and he presses inside of you and groans as he reaches his own peak. 

You’re breathing heavily as he slides out of you. He disposes of the condom and lays next to you again. You’re still breathing heavily and he is holding you, warm and stable next to you. 

You know you need to get up and clean yourself off. Instead, you reach up and pull his hair, now slightly damp with sweat, bringing him in for another soft kiss. 

“Have you really been thinking of me all of this time?” you ask, breathless as you pull away. 

“Every day,” he confesses readily, pressing another kiss to your lips. 

Your heart races at his admission. His easy affection. 

“I’ve thought about you a lot too.” You meet his eyes and see only the softest adoration so you can’t find it in yourself to be embarrassed when you say it. Or when you lean into him again, hugging him tightly to you. He hugs you tighter and you giggle as he nuzzles his nose into your shoulder, his hair tickling your neck. 

“Let’s take a shower, yeah?” 

You agree and stand up, stretching your arms over your head. You catch him looking at your chest and he grins at you, raising an eyebrow suggestively. “Round two in the shower?” 

You laugh, cheeks warming.

“We have to make up for lost time, love.”